


Five Times Foggy Kissed Daredevil (and One Time he Kissed Matt)

by notebooksandlaptops



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Admissions of Love, Avocado's in love, Bad Flirting, Buffy references, Hospitalization, Karen finds out about Daredevil (eventually), Karen finds out about Daredevil and Foggy (very quickly), Karen's POV, Karen's lists of things she knows about Daredevil, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Matt and Foggy are dorks, Speeches, shakespeare quotes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notebooksandlaptops/pseuds/notebooksandlaptops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Franklin P. Nelson might be in love - very possibly with the man everyone likes to call a Devil.</p><p>Karen Page might find out. Five times. While simultaneously trying to find out exactly who the Devil is.</p><p>or</p><p>"Things I know about Daredevil by Karen Page"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"If thou remember'st not the slightest folly_   
_That ever love did make thee run into,_   
_Thou hast not loved." - William Shakespeare, As You Like It_

 

-/Prologue/Prologue/-

 

It falls from the heavens as if trying to wash away the violence and bloodshed that has been surrounding Hell’s Kitchen since the moment it came into being, as if trying to cleanse the city of the immeasurable heartache, the darkness it has always kept deep within its shadowy back alleys and high, concrete topped roofs. Each drop of water that falls ring out hard and echoing in volume against the concrete slabs that make up the sidewalks, the pavements, the crumbling buildings raised like hands scraping to touch the grey clouded sky high above.

To a general passer within the city, to someone without an ear for sound, who seemingly is just desperate for shelter from the rain, it would seem there was no rhythm to it, no rhyme, just the steady deathly patter, loud as gunshots; as vicious as the crime played out in the streets all around, bombarding the city with a merciless storm.

But to some select few, the storm could hold beauty. The singularity of each drop, coming together to form an orchestra, punctuated by rolls of thunder every so often, the steady drum in the background, keeping time. Keeping the beat.

Deserted. That’s how the streets of Hell’s Kitchen feel that day. There’s not a soul brave enough to dare such weather, not a soul brave enough to battle the chilling winds, the soaking wet rain. Not a soul.

Well- maybe one or two. There’s always an exception to the rule somewhere in the books. Always.

In the back alley of a murky street - seemingly indifferent from every other murky street surrounding it, in a city full of murky streets - a man stands tall and strong against the harsh weather, unmoving, his silhouette casting an eerie shadow against the ground. Anyone in the city would know this man just by looking, they wouldn’t even have to think, wouldn’t even have to try and place him: he is in the news so much, in the papers every day, everyone would just…know.

The red suit standing out in the darkness. The horns giving loo to the name everyone is so eager to condemn or condone: Daredevil. In all his glory, standing on a back alley street, in the desolate rain.

 _Maybe one or_ two.

In the rain beside him stands, against all odds, another man, wet hair clinging to the heavy grey suit like a child to a teddy bear- a red tie to match the blood red colour that stains over the Daredevil’s suit.

He is not someone that anyone would know just by looking. He is not someone in the news, he does not strike fear into the hearts of men, people do not condemn or condone him. The people who know him though, those people _love_ him. He is a smile when there is nothing but sadness, a laugh when there is nothing but fear. He stands for what is right, yet not in the same way the Daredevil does - and while infinitely less well-known, he is, and always will be the prize of Hell’s Kitchen, even if no one really realises, even if no one really knows him.

One man is dark, one man stalks the city at night with a merciless mind, taking a fist to anyone of bad intentions and he _enjoys_ it.

One man is light, one man walks the city in the day with mercy in his heart and a smile on his face, joking with anyone to brighten up their day and he _enjoys_ it.

There is no reason they should be in an alley together. Foggy Nelson and the Daredevil, the two of them infinitely different, pure opposites except for in their morals - pure opposites in their actions - at least the actions open to speculation by the general public. One a lawyer - one a masked vigilante. Perhaps, if you were looking, you would realise that they complement each other perfectly. Perhaps if you were looking, you would think that they did not.

It depends really, on whether you know what’s hiding beneath the mask. But that is a different tale, for a different time. This is not iron man, or Captain America. This is not someone well known - this is not someone who let’s everyone see the face behind the mask.

This is the devil.

The devil standing on a street next to a man.

There is no reason for them to be standing in an alley together: at least none that the city would swallow willingly.

They certainly wouldn’t accept the excuse _Foggy Nelson was just telling the Devil off._

If anyone actually cared to dare the rain as it falls from the heavens as if trying to wash away the violence and bloodshed that has been surrounding Hell’s Kitchen since the moment it came into being, as if trying to cleanse the city of the immeasurable heartache, the darkness it has always kept deep within its shadowy back alleys and high, concrete topped roofs - then perhaps they would see and would _know_ that Foggy Nelson was just stood in the rain, telling the Devil off.

 _“You can’t keep_ doing _this. Come on, you’ll catch a cold in this, you really think bad guys are out and about in this weather?”_

It’s private, this moment. Something that’s shared only between them.

Except it’s not.

Someone dares the weather. Someone sees Foggy Nelson telling the devil off.

That someone is Karen Page.

 

\-----

 

_Things I know about the ~~Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~ Daredevil by Karen Page:_

_1)_      _He saved my life._

 _2)_      _He believes in doing the right thing._

 _3)_      _He can fight (a bit like a ninja)_

 _4)_      _He’s probably hot_

 _5)_      _He has a deep voice_

 _6)_      _~~He might be a terrorist.~~_

 _7)_      _He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

 _8)_      _He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

 _9)_      _He looks after this city._

 


	2. Chapter 2

-/1/1/-

 

Nelson and Murdock’s door is always one to jam and it makes no exception for the storm that rages against the city. Right now it won’t budge, won’t close properly, no matter how hard Karen pulls at it. A sigh escapes her lips as she takes the keys from her pocket. Against the struggle to shut the door they do little, but five minutes later she manages to get the building closed and locked up correctly, her clothes already damp and wet from the harshness of rain.

There’s no taxi’s about tonight on the streets, so she resigns herself to walking home in the wet weather, her coat wrapped tight around her to try and offer the barest of protection, the action futile. She’s not succeeding here.

 “You can’t keep _doing_ this. Come on, you’ll catch a cold in this, you really think bad guys are out and about in this weather?”

For a second, she thinks he’s talking to her, tilting her head to one side as she tries to place exactly where the voice is coming from, where Foggy might be standing. The words echo on a night like tonight, where the city seems to almost be nothing more than a deserted world of ghosts and rain - on a night where not even villains dare to rear their heads, too scared of drowning in the water that’s soaking through the very pores of the city.

When she catches sight of him, her world stops for just a moment, shock clouding her mind, striking her body to freeze where she’s standing. He’s not talking to her, oh no. He hasn’t even seen her yet, his eyes completely focused on someone else.

Foggy Nelson. Her boss and best friend who had left the building - their tiny law firm -  just under an hour ago, his own hair soaked more than her own, his clothes sticking to his body, as if he’s not even bothered to go home since he left the office, seemingly oblivious to the downpour, hands folded across his chest.

But it isn’t any of that that catches her attention. It is the fact that Daredevil – _The_ Daredevil is standing right there in the middle of the alley, facing Foggy – _talking to him._

Her world spins for a moment, tilted on an axis, spinning too fast. It doesn’t make any sense. Foggy _knew_ the Daredevil? The same man Foggy had spent most of last year turned against, convinced he was some kind of terrorist along with the rest of the city? The same man he told Karen every day was – while helping the city, even though Foggy now did believe he was on their side  – a complete Nut job, Matt laughing into his cup every time he heard Foggy say that? Foggy knew the Daredevil well enough to chassis the fearless man about the weather and catching a cold, as if he was just herself or Matt? Surely he would have said something. Karen had been hooked on this man from the start – surely he would have let her know _something_ about him if that was the case.

But he hadn’t, which means, she realises, that she should leave. This is private, something Foggy has obviously tried to keep a secret. And Foggy Nelson doesn’t have many secrets, or so she’s gathered. If this is the one thing he wants to be just _his_ to respect his wishes she should just carry on walking and pretend she’d never spotted them, standing in a murky back alley in the rain.

But the thing is- she couldn’t help herself. This is the man who’d saved her life all those months ago, and for some reason Foggy Nelson is talking to him. Quickly, quietly, she moves back into the shadows, having to pray that the weak light and the rain would cover the sounds of her own footsteps and the shadow she casts against the pavement.

The last year had taught her a lot about herself, one of them being her curiosity and a need to uncover, something which proved to be a great asset in her work as a sort-of-lawyer/receptionist for Nelson and Murdock: attorneys at law.

Plus, this is Daredevil. And if she found out Foggy had been hiding a dog or a women, then yeah, maybe she’d let it slide. But this is _Daredevil_ for crying out loud, something was up - especially if Foggy is keeping quiet about it, not telling her. She has a right to know, she reasons, Daredevil isn’t Foggy’s to hide away.

Her thoughts stop her from catching most of the Daredevils reply but she certainly hears an elongated, ‘Foggy’ at the end of it, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“No, seriously, I swear to god, you’re coming home. Or I’m coming out there with you to be your stupid, fucking sidekick, for a night. Try that one out for size _Daredevil.”_

And then is when it happens. Just like that. The quiet of the alley, followed by two purposeful steps forward, a hand reaching out – Karen sees it all. Sees the smooth smile slip onto the Daredevils face, sees him shake his head almost fondly, smoothing down Foggy’s soaking wet coat.

And then he leans in.

It is bare, hardly there at all, feather light, but unmistakable. It is…familiar, as if they’d kissed like this a thousand times before and would continue to kiss like this again a thousand times more in the future. From her position in the shadows she can just make it out, the way the Daredevil wraps an arm around Foggy’s waist, almost protectively, the reluctance to pull away when their lips part shown by the way the other rests his forehead against Foggy’s.

Her boss had just kissed the Daredevil.

Her _boss_ had just kissed the _Daredevil._

Shocked didn’t even cover it.

“Meet you at your place,” it is so quiet, she barely hears it over the sound of the downpour, is much more caught up on the hand that the masked man runs through Foggy’s wet hair, the way they are standing oh so close, as if they don’t want to be away from each other for even a moment, “you’re soaked. And freezing.”

“You’ll have to think of a way to warm me up then,” Foggy replies easily. He looks—well, he looks happy. _Really_ happy. There’s no other word to fit the tone of his voice, the smile stretching out in full over the smaller man’s face, so undeniable in how bright it’s shining. It is possibly the happiest she’s ever seen him since she met him.

“Bad flirting again, Nelson.” He pulls back then, the Daredevil, removing himself from Foggy although she can see the whispers of reluctance in his movements while performing the action, like all he wants is to hold Foggy close and never move, never let go, “what is it with you and the constant bad flirting?” he seems to sigh, face turning upwards, “race you back to your place?”

“You’re on.” Foggy replies, and Karen has to wonder if the Daredevil hears it at all, the masked man already jumping up the fire escapes, seemingly climbing up the walls.

Karen watches from the shadows as Foggy shakes his head, a hand moving through his hair, staring happily - almost dazed out, like a teenager who’s just experienced their first kiss - at where the other man - where _Daredevil_ had just been.

Foggy _has_ been hiding a women, at least in the sense that she had been thinking earlier. It just isn’t a _women_ he’s hiding, it’s a man.

Not just any man either.

_Daredevil._

When Foggy starts to move, she presses herself against the wall without much thought, watching as Foggy leaves the alley, that stupid smile still lighting up his face even as the rain tumbles down upon his head.

Karen stays pressed against the wall for another minute, the rain dripping down all around her, soaking her through more thoroughly then she was before yet she can’t bring herself to move as she processes what she’s just bared witness to.

Some things you never could have guessed.

 

\-----

 

_Things I know about ~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~ Daredevil by Karen Page:_

_1)_      _He saved my life._

 _2)_      _He believes in doing the right thing._

 _3)_      _He can fight (a bit like a ninja)_

 _4)_      _He’s probably hot_

 _5)_      _He has a deep voice_

 _6)_      _~~He might be a terrorist.~~_

 _7)_      _He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

 _8)_      _He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

 _9)_      _He looks after this city._

 _10)_    _My boss/best friend knows who he is._

 _11)_    _He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain._

 _12)_    _According to my boss/best friend he can get a cold from the rain like anyone else can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, your comments make my days bright and happy. Please feel free to tell me what you think. Thank you for reading.
> 
> And yeah, Foggy Nelson would flirt. Badly. All the time. And Matt would call him out on it. And it would be funny.


	3. Chapter 3

-/2/2/-

 

A breath of relief left her lungs as her keys slid neatly into the lock of Foggy’s apartment, the ugly coloured purple door - with its faded paint and mysterious stain that looks only a little like blood, but is more likely alcohol - opening up easily under her polished fingernails, not even making a sound as it swings inwards.

Foggy had given her the keys just a little over a week ago at Josie’s a joyous smile on his face as he proclaimed her an ‘official part of the Nelson family’, only a little drunk (if by a ‘little’ you meant ‘a lot’), a merry glow covering his features, a laugh free on his lips, one hand gripping tightly to Matt’s arm like _he_ was the one who needed guiding around all the time, Matt gracious enough to take the role of helping Foggy just as Foggy always helped him when he was feeling a lot more sober, a lot less drunk. Admittedly a little confused, Karen had taken the keys with a gracious smile, only able to feel glad that she did when Foggy’s grin got even wider, a feat she hadn’t believed possible in the seconds before.

Later, when Foggy had excused himself to go to the toilet after drinking the admittedly suspicious ‘eel’, Matt had put his own hand in his pocket, drawn it out to jingle his own – bright red – set of keys in front of Karen’s face. He explained how it was sort of a tradition in the Nelson family – a key to the Nelson’s home meant a key into the Nelson’s life, into the family. It was Foggy’s way of telling her she was close to his heart, Matt had explained, something that had filled her with warmth when she heard it.

Karen had never had much of a family before, yet somehow she’s found one here in the cover of Matt and Foggy – Nelson and Murdock – her brothers, her bosses, her best friends.

Which is exactly why she really shouldn’t be here.

Being here is taking advantage of the tiny, jingling set of (yellow, hers had been yellow) key’s Foggy had so happily bestowed upon her. She just… she has to _know._

It had been an unbearable few weeks at the office, those days that had transpired after she saw Foggy kissing Daredevil. Foggy had acted like nothing at all was different, like he hadn’t kissed the masked man everyone called a devil in the rain. He didn’t look happier, nor did he seem down or sad within his mood. He was just _Foggy_ – which has her wondering exactly how long this whole thing had been going on between him and his devil of a friend. Long enough for him to be over the initial afterglow of the first ‘get together’ moments; that is for sure.

Throughout the past week her mind had been driving itself to complete agitation, breeching dangerously close to insanity, trying to fit this new tiny piece of information into her life – she had thought briefly of asking Matt. Desperation and frustration were taking a toll on her as the days went on – mainly caused by Foggy’s continuation to say _nothing_ about the man Karen had been so obsessed with for what felt like years now _._

Matt would surely know though – wouldn’t he? Him and Foggy were joined at the hip, she’d thought to herself that week, (often literally, a steady arm held out to help Matt across the road or around the office, a fist bump here and there whenever they won a case) – she’d never seen a friendship as strong as theirs in her life. There was no way Matt didn’t know if Foggy really was in a serious relationship with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He would _have_ to know. Which meant she could just ask Matt - that didn’t intrude on Foggy’s privacy but meant she could have her answers. Simple.

However every time she thought to ask in the past two weeks, every time she tried to talk to Matt about Foggy’s secret boyfriend Foggy himself would walk in with pressing news on a case or donuts slung under one arm or _something_ , some nagging little thing that left Karen unable to ask Matt anything and helpless to her own thoughts, stuck in the eternal torment of a million questions but no answers.

Have both Matt and Foggy known the devil all this time? Was Foggy’s talk on hating the man when everyone deemed him a terrorist just a cover up for some kind of secret love affair he had going on with him? – or did Foggy not even know him then? What is it about the Daredevil that makes Foggy so instant on hiding him that he won’t even tell _her?  -_ Who he’d given key’s too and called family?

Her mind feels caught in the snares of that memory, the moment where Foggy and Matt had said they’d met the masked man in the alleyway outside the office - all stuttery and high pitched - she’d _known_ something was up then. She just hadn’t realised what until now.

They were lying to her: both of them were.

They were lying then, just as they are lying now by continuing not to tell her anything. Fairly speaking, it is more a lie by omission than anything else, but a lie all the same.

Which makes her feel just a little less guilty about this. It isn’t exactly _breaking in_ – Foggy _had_ given her a key after all, he’d have to have known when he gave it to her that she would use it at some point.

It’s just that it isn’t exactly _not_ breaking in either. She is, admittedly, here to snoop out the mysterious Daredevil – honestly she half expects to find him standing in the closet, deep, blood red leather costume and all. Perhaps actually _asking_ Foggy would be easier but she absolutely refuses to break up the little thing he had going for himself. There’s a reason Foggy has kept this secret after all. Perhaps it’s that Foggy loves having something – someone – that is just _his_ and if that is the case Karen isn’t about to take that away from him. If that is the reason he isn’t telling her – so be it. She would gracefully ignore her boss’s relationship with the masked man. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has to know about the Daredevil himself. She has to. Lord only knows he’s been her little obsession since he saved her – what seemed like years and years ago now.

Besides, she justifies, if that is the reason - just Foggy wanting something private - then by having a quick snoop around she hasn’t hurt anyone or ruined Foggy’s privacy (well, not that he would know of anyway), and if she found out there was some _other_ reason along the way then at least Foggy won’t be forced into openly lying to her if she asks the question.

Yes, this way is better. She knows it is.

The living room of Foggy’s apartment is empty when she reaches it. She has been there before of course – many, many times. To eat sushi with Foggy or to try and convince Matt the piece of chocolate he is eating is actually Pizza (he never falls for it _obviously_ but it is a fun game):just to hang out with the guys.

This place – this living room, this apartment as a whole - has always seemed so full of life, so full of _Foggy:_ of the joy that man carries around with him every step of his life, of the intense need to make the world a better place. The place glows with Foggy, usually, he’s left his mark here – more than just the ketchup stains on the carpet – he’s brought life to these rooms and made them his own.

Now however – in the darkness of the night, in the absence of Foggy himself - this space seems almost desolate, void of the normal soft glow of lamps, of Matt’s laugh that always seems so far away unless Foggy is in the room, of Foggy’s jokes and the smell of horrid, greasy take out. It just seems – dark. Empty. Alone.

Maybe it’s not the apartment that rings with Foggy, with who he is – maybe it’s just any room, any building that Foggy happens to walk into, be it the office at work, his own home, Josie’s.

Without Foggy here, this place seems dead.

Tentatively, she calls out Foggy’s name, waits a beat for an answer.

She is here alone.

And so she begins:

Ten minutes of ruffling through the papers on Foggy’s desk give up nothing but case files, Foggy’s kitchen full with nothing but beer and what looks like a scrap of Matt’s braille on the table that he must have left here last time he came over, Foggy’s closet holding no secret Daredevil. No deep red outfit. Nothing.

Slowly her mind begins to bring up the option that she had merely dreamt it all. Perhaps Foggy kissing Daredevil was something her mind had conjured, tired and deprived of the luxury of coffee (Matt had forgotten to pick some up from the store that day). Perhaps--

And that is when the window opens.

Quickly she hides herself in the open closet she had been snooping around in seconds earlier, the door open just a crack so she has the minimalist view of the open bedroom window, in hearing range of the steps clinking on the fire escape signalling the sound of somebody coming.

“Don’t tell me you’ve- that you’ve been waiting on the roof for me, Fog? It’s _October._ ”

A worn out, tired sounding Daredevil. Breathless, but not the nice _I’ve-been-kissing-someone-for-two-long_ breathless. More the _I’m-really-hurt-and-trying-to-hide-it_ breathless you hear on movies and sometimes – occasionally – in the court rooms. She has heard it before, on Foggy, in fact, back in the hospital when bombs exploded all over the city, painting the skyline with fire and ash - when he’d been hiding the wound on his side for far, far too long and for just a moment Karen feared for his life.

“What did you _expect_ me to do? I got home to a note that said _I’m just going to go and find the Russian Mafia leader – don’t wait up_.” Foggy sounds exasperated, mad, the light tone that had populated his voice when he’d spoken to this man in the rain replaced with mild irritation, mild anger, dripping from his voice like blood from a knife.

She’s rarely seen Foggy pissed before – not the angry sense of the word.

It is-- an odd sight to say the least. She is used to Foggy being happy, cheerful, the centre point of laughs, a reason to smile when there seems to be nothing else around that could even get close to bringing a grin to your face. Foggy pissed is just- not normal. Nothing that Karen feels he isn’t entitled too, but strange to witness never the less.

“That is not how I phrased it, Foggy,” comes the other voice, deep in tone, the man behind the mask.

“That is _exactly_ how you phrased it. You just managed to put all that between the lines. I’m a _lawyer_ – I know how to read the fine print, buddy.”

The sound of a window sliding open an inch more fills the room, followed by the brief sound of stumbling, Foggy’s voice again, “here, nope, you need help, don’t refuse it. God, you’re so fucking _blind_ sometimes.” The bare crack in the door doesn’t allow her see much, but she sees the two men stumbling in, sees them clinging to one another - just shadows in the darkness from where she’s hiding in the closet.

The red suit flashes in the minimal light, the streetlamp pouring its soft shining glow through the window like spilled silver - she can just make out Foggy’s fingers running over the protective fabric of it. It is almost a surprise when she hears the sound of the Daredevil chuckling, as if Foggy has just made a hilarious joke that Karen hadn’t caught.

“Shut up. Shut up! You know, I swear to god…” there is anger there, running deep through Foggy’s bones, but there is something else as well. Something vaguely akin to what sounds suspiciously like pain, hurt, _betrayal_. If the sound manages to break Karen’s heart from her rather cornered space in the closet, she knows it has to be breaking the heart of the man standing, half lent against Foggy.

“Foggy- Foggy- hey, I’m sorry,” comes the hushed sounds a moment later, voice soft, gentle; like a lullaby. The effect it has on Foggy is almost immediate, the way she sees his form now leaning against the person next to him as they sit down on the covers of the bed, the springs on Foggy’s mattress creaking.

“I just-” Foggy bites out, “I keep seeing it. You have no idea- when I walked in to find you half dead on the floor you have _no idea_ what that was like. You, in a frikin’ mask – one that looked way better than the one you wear nowadays by the way, no stupid horns – just….almost gone. There was so much blood….so much….”

Despite how much she wants to rush to Foggy, comfort him at the way his voice shakes, how broken up, how _heartbroken_ he sounds, Karen forces herself to remain hidden where she is and files the information away for later – Foggy had known this man when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, before he’d got all spiced up with a new name to fit his new costume: Daredevil.

Honestly, her feelings are muddled on the matter, as she sits listening intently, trying not to let the guilt claw at her about listening to a private conversation between her best friend and his boyfriend. Foggy had _known_. Did that truly mean that the hatred he had displayed for the Devil back then was all a lie, had always been just a lie? Why? He could have sided with Matt; Matt who had already said he wanted to give the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen a chance to explain himself, a chance for a fair trial. Why would he speak about wanting to hit the guy all those times if he knew him? - get all mad when he saw him on the TV? Why-

The other – Daredevil – makes a pained sound at Foggy’s words one that draws her far away from her questions, they will save for later, she can only listen to this conversation once, “you were never supposed to find out like that, Foggy. You know I’ll never forgive myself.” The words sound oh so pained, like they’ve been running through this man’s mind for so long, like he’s repeated them so often they are seared into his very being.

“I know.” Foggy repeats after a moment, those two little words also sounding far too well used. There is nothing in his voice that says the Daredevil shouldn’t be sorry, something she picks up on even while her mind is focusing on the somehow surprising fact that Foggy had known the Daredevil before he knew he was actually ‘Daredevil’. That Foggy had known the man behind that mask. That was all that that sentence could mean: ‘ _you were never supposed to find out like that...’_

Racking her mind through Foggy’s friends she comes up blank. He is a lovely guy, he knows a lot of people, is friendly with almost everyone he knows – but friends he has the possibility of just walking in on and finding them half dead and in a black mask? That narrows it down a bit.

Matt and herself. Who else was there? Marci maybe – although that certainly isn’t who is wearing the mask out there now, unless she could somehow manipulate her voice to make it sound very male, and has grown a light stumble across her jaw since Karen saw her last.

So _who -_ that is the question. _Who?_

Distracted, she only just picks up on the soft sounds of what seems to be metal on metal, barely there, like two keys on a key ring clinking together in the most delicate of sounds, or the sound of the rings on a married couples fingers tingling when the two thread their hands together. The sound is beautiful to her ears and for just a moment she’s lost in it, lost in the barest of noises, desperate to know exactly what it is making such a sound within the violence of such a tension filled conversation.

Then- oh. _Oh._

Shrinking a little away from the gap to give them some privacy, she forces herself to wait right there and not run out of the closet in a bid to escape - she really doesn’t want to be classed as a ‘peeping Tom’ in anyone’s books. But there isn’t much else she can do right now, even if she desperately doesn’t want to be in her boss’s tiny closet with her boss doing _that_ right out in the open. It isn’t necessarily anything bad - of course it’s not - but she can hear kissing – well _making out_ seems like a slightly firmer definition. There is the slick sound of wet lips against wet lips, the dance of tepid breaths that one begins in order to give a kiss a longer lasting life.

Listening and sort-of-seeing your best friend _making out_ with their boyfriend is a little different than merely seeing a quick peck of lips in the rain. She’s almost certain they wouldn’t be comfortable doing this if they knew she was there, which just makes it even worse, makes the blush steal across her face even faster.

“You kiss by the book,” the words are whispered, gentle as anything as the kiss dissipates, Karen finally able to stop blocking out the sound of her best friend – a friend she sees as practically a _brother_ – kissing on the other side of a very small, very flimsy, slightly open wooden door.

Wait-

Mild memories of her high school drama class come to mind. Did he just recite-

“And you are a romantic snob who spins out Romeo and Juliet references every time we kiss,” Foggy snorts, a sort of half laugh.

Shakespeare. The dude just recited Shakespeare to Foggy on the spot. Most people don’t throw around Shakespeare references without some level of sophistication about them - so he’s smart either smart or a dork. She adds that to the admittedly short list of things she knows about the Daredevil.

“I would love to hear more I’m sure,” Foggy’s saying as she thinks, “but you need stitching up, as much as I’d love to sit here all night and make out like the frantic horny teenagers we are at heart, the dear Angel to my Buffy.”

“Buffy died. Twice. And ended up with another vampire. And Angel went crazy and started killing everyone after he and Buffy had sex,” the Daredevil points out. Fond. He sounds fond.

“Details,” Foggy waves his hands lightly in a dismissing motion. Karen’s pleased to see all that anger from before seems soothed out of him by the kiss, like some kind of cure to all ills.

This is a lot deeper than what she thought it was, this thing between the two of them, she realises. Here they are throwing about TV references like it’s completely normal banter, Foggy stitching him up, them laughing together, reciting _Romeo and Juliet_ to one another.

This isn’t just bad flirting and a kiss in the rain together. This is _real._

Well, if she’s learned anything solid tonight it’s one simple thing:

Her boss is head over heels for _Daredevil._

Maybe simple isn’t the correct word. Nothing in her life is ever simple.

“Are you always gonna do this with my references? I never bring up that Juliet and Romeo were teenagers who killed six people in seven days.  But whenever I bring something up: Maverick and Goose – oh no Foggy, Goose was married and died.”

The other laughs now, “excuse me for being confused when the person I’d met five minutes before started suddenly throwing weird references at me and calling me a _really, really good looking guy.”_

“Fuck off. You are hotter than an extremely spicy chili, my friend. You are _very_ hot.”

“Hot _damn._ Call the police and the-“

“If you sing one more word of that stupid, catchy, annoying, song, I swear to god, I’m not even gonna bandage you up, you can stay a bruised little puppy with your little puppy dog eyes for all I care, forever and ever.” Foggy retorts quickly, but Karen can _hear_ the smile in his voice. He’s happy.

Daredevil is making him happy. Daredevil is also making him flirt badly (seriously _hotter than an extremely spicy chili?)_ But the fact still remains:

Daredevil is making Foggy Nelson happy.

 

\-----

 

_Things I know about ~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~ Daredevil by Karen Page:_

_1)_      _He saved my life._

 _2)_      _He believes in doing the right thing._

 _3)_      _He can fight (a bit like a ninja)_

 _4)_      _He’s probably hot_

 _5)_      _He has a deep voice_

 _6)_      _~~He might be a terrorist.~~_

 _7)_      _He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

 _8)_      _He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

 _9)_      _He looks after this city._

 _10)_    _My boss/best friend knows who he is._

 _11)_    _He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain._

 _12)_    _According to my boss/best friend he can get ill from the rain like anyone else can._

 _13)_    _Is in some sort of serious relationship with my boss/best friend._

 _14)_    _Knew my boss/best friend back when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen_

 _15)_    _Knew my boss/best friend before my boss/best friend knew he was Daredevil_

 _16)_    _He recites Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) – is probably smart or at least a drama student – or maybe just a really big dork._

 _17)_    _Likes Buffy_

 _18)_    _My boss/best friend called him ‘a very, very good looking guy’ the first time he met him._

 _19)_    _My boss/best friend made references to Maverick and Goose the first time he met him._

 _20)_    _Daredevil is good at spoiling your references with nerdy facts._

 _21)_    _Will sometimes sing ‘uptown funk’ when prompted to (like everyone else on the planet)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't sit one hundred percent okay with me - too much description at the start maybe was the thing which caused the nagging feeling of 'not-quite-rightiness' to sit within my veins while posting this. 
> 
> As for this whole story, I lack a beta to help me out. So any and all mistakes are my own and I am thoroughly sorry for them.
> 
> What was the sound Karen heard before they started kissing? Yep - you'll find out later. Also the braille on the table is definitely Matt's note to Foggy - because Headcanon time again: Foggy learnt to read braille in college, meaning that he almost flunked punjabi, he even spent some of the times when he could have been going on a date with 'the-girl-from-Punjabi-class' - trying to learn Braille in order to make Matt happy. Matt totally prints out Braille notes to Foggy, just as Foggy totally prints out Braille notes to Matt. I have so many headcanons about how Foggy tells Matt about his braille reading skills, but Matt certainly wouldn't know he was learning it until Foggy one day just read some braille perfectly.
> 
> ... 
> 
> I think I've thought about Foggy's Braille reading abilities too much. Anyway yes! Oh, and Matt is totally into Buffy, Foggy definitely got him into it, but he loves the show, so much that Foggy bought him all the seasons with audio description so Matt could watch them even though it cost him a fortune for Matt's birthday in their third year at college. (Because let's be honest, Matt and Buffy would be best friends)
> 
> And as for why Matt can't 'super-sense' Karen, it's one of those things your gonna have to wait for the answer to because all is revealed in later chapters, although for now we can just say when Foggy's in a room and they're alone, he doesn't spare much time for worrying about snooping-best-friends in the closet.
> 
> Next Chapter to be posted on Monday so stay in tune. As always comments and kudos are things that bring sunshine and happiness to my life. I love to see what people think - even if it's critisium - because seeing what people think of your work honestly does help you grow as a writer, especially if the feedback is truthful.


	4. Chapter 4

-/3/3/-

 

Karen’s hands won’t stop shaking, her phone pressing uncomfortably against her ear, the ringing vibrating around her skull like a mantra of bone crushing noises - _too loud, too loud, too loud_.

_Pick up, Matt. Pick up._

It’s funny to think, just a week ago now, she’d been stuck in Foggy’s closet, looking for some way of getting out without them noticing her.

(luckily Foggy’s first aid kit was apparently ‘out of bandages’ a fact which Foggy had complained loudly about, until Daredevil had calmed him down and told him they could just go back to his own apartment where there was, apparently, whole boxes of bandages and nice silk sheets (wealthy then, at least a little). They’d left without much else being said just witty banter that told her nothing about Daredevil’s real identity, nor how exactly Foggy fit into the picture of his life – still she’d managed to get out of the closest and the apartment without either of them noticing her which she was counting as a win and left with a little more of that valuable knowledge about Daredevil under her sleeve to add to her list)

Now here she is, desperate, sitting in a horrible sickly-green hospital chair, the waiting room seeming far too quiet, the smell of hospitals like bleach and blood intruding her nose almost pressing her to gag, as she waits patiently to be told if she’ll ever see Foggy again.

Tonight is very possibly the worst night of her life – with a few small exceptions that had transpired over their run in with Fisk.

Foggy. Bleeding. Outside on the street. A knife wound just shy of his chest. A broken arm.

No sign of the masked man.

No sign of help.

Just Foggy – almost dead.

The ride here had been a blur of noises, colours, tears; the ambulance itself a mess of people trying to get Foggy secure, get him breathing evenly. Karen had clung to Foggy’s hand like it was a lifeline, unable to let go. Not until they told her to, took him away into surgery, left her in a horrible sickly-green hospital chair.

Now she is waiting, trying desperately to get hold of Matt.

Somehow this feels like a repeat.

Still – this is utterly worse than that night when the bombs had gone off – utterly different to the night when the world had been painted with fire. Back then Foggy had been hurt but he wasn’t dying; he’d been fine, banged up, bleeding but fine - the phone calls to Matt were just to make sure Matt himself was okay, not blown to pieces lying on some cold, damp, street somewhere, than to discuss Foggy’s own injuries.

Theses phone calls to Matt aren’t like that at all. These phone calls to Matt are about asking him to possibly come and say a final goodbye to the best friend he’s ever had, to say goodbye to the ray of sunshine that Matt had once described as _the main reason I’ve gotten so far_ when far too drunk and tired for his own good - for Matt to say goodbye to the best man in New York.

And Matt, the bastard, isn’t picking up his phone.

Feeling a lone tear slip down the side of her face, she buries her head in her hands, blonde hair hanging around her shoulders like split gold. This can’t be happening, it can’t be.

This is _Foggy_. Foggy who doesn't know a word of Spanish, Foggy who sings in his office when he thinks no one is around to hear him, Foggy who’d taken her out for a whole night, comforted her when she couldn’t bear to go home, when the city was nothing but a dark ugly mess. Foggy who made the city light again. Foggy who makes the city _beautiful._

The world would be an uglier place without him, a darker one, one she didn’t have any intention of living in.

So many people love him. So many. Her mind flies to the Daredevil - where is he now? She has no way of contacting the man she saw Foggy kiss, no way of telling the man who made Foggy smile brighter than the sun in the middle of a raging storm just what has happened, what is still happening.

Foggy could die here and the Daredevil would never know.

Maybe if she could just get in touch with Matt...Maybe he would be able to ring this Daredevil man. Over the past-- well, over the past _year_ almost she has been desperate to find out who Daredevil – the man in the mask – whatever you liked to call him - is for her own reasons, now she is just wishing she knew so she could give him a phone call, let him say goodbye to Foggy.

The clearing of a throat catches on her ears, bright blue eyes the colour of sunlight reflected against an ocean wave, looking up to find a doctor standing before her - withering grey hair, a clipboard under her arms.

“Are you Mr Nelson’s emergency contact?” she asks, and Karen’s heart sinks in her chest.

_No. No. Foggy would not be dead - could not be dead._

She feels like she’s breaking.

“I’m- I think Matt’s listed as his emergency contact officially, or his next of kin or something. I’m- I’m Foggy’s friend. Best friend. I work with him,” she manages to get out, voice shaky, small, nothing like herself - nothing like the women she’s come to be.

The doctor nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose from her bun, “well, dear, you’ll be happy to know he’s stable. It wasn’t as bad as everyone thought it was going to be when we first got a look at it,” she says gently, “he’s in recovery, but he’s going to be fine. A little sore. On bedrest for the next few weeks, but fine.”

Karen feels a breath leave her chest.

Foggy is going to be okay.

Foggy isn’t dying on her.

Foggy is _fine._

“I- can I see him please?” she asks, _pleads,_ almost breathless in her relief.

“He’s supposed to be sleeping. The operation went well, he should be waking up any minute once the drugs wear off, but he’ll be tired, he needs rest Miss-”

“Page.” Karen supplies, “Karen Page.”

“-Miss Page,” she finishes, her expression comforting, “But I don’t see a problem if you want to go and spend five minutes at his side. He must have given you quite a fright. Have you contacted this...Matt,” she glances down at her clipboard, eyes scanning for information, “Mr Murdock is it? Or do you need us to do it?”

“Yeah. I left him a message,” Karen says, a little meekly, “he’ll be here soon, I’m sure.” And if he is’t Karen is going to slap him. Hard. Matt is a lot of things but one thing he isn’t is a man to pick up his phone. That is a fact which really needs to change. Soon.

“Hmmm...Well, it’s getting late. It’s almost eleven now, we really can’t let anyone visit past midnight, Miss Page. If he’s not here before then, he’ll have to wait until morning.”

She’s got a bit of an attitude, this doctor, Karen notices. But she seems kind, bright brown eyes lighting up the winkles lining her face in a way that makes her look younger instead of older. Dedicated. Strick. But kind. Karen’s eyes catch briefly on the little silver cross perched on a silver chain around her neck and she nods, “yeah, I’ll let him know.” Honestly she doesn’t think heaven or hell could keep Matt away from an injured Foggy once he actually worked out Foggy was injured, but she’s not about to make the hospital any more weary of people sneaking around past visiting hours, which Matt is definitely likely to do if he gets here at two o’clock in the morning – or any time prior to when a time what is acceptably ‘the morning’.  “Thank you- which room is he in again?”

A few moments later she’s following the directions through the hallways, looking for the Recovery ward. It’s not exactly hard to find the ward, but the ward’s a large place - taking up almost half the hospital in its vast array of beeping heart monitors, of weeping families and struggling lungs - broken bodies straining, holding onto life in a desperate struggle to get better, to live on. In a city like Hell’s Kitchen, everyone seems to have to recover from something - be it an actual injury gained in the dark streets during those constant cloudy nights, or just the toll the city takes upon the soul of its loyal yet undeserving occupants. It’s unsurprising, she thinks, that the recovery ward is so large, as she walks past all the doors, searching resolutely for room 312.

The door is indifferent from all the others around it, except for, of course, the letters written in simple, easy to read English, the silver paint marking the three insignificant numbers flaking just a little - room 312.

She’s about to walk in, throw her arms around Foggy’s neck and demand to know why he was stupid enough to get himself get stabbed, stupid enough to let Karen live in the hell she’s been subjected too for the last few hours when she hears it. Voices. Floating steadily through the other side of the door.

“I would have been here sooner. Had to go hunt down the bastards that dared to lay a finger on you.”

A tiny window lets her see through the door, into the darkened room. The shadows make it hard to see, the door makes it hard to hear - but there is no doubt in her mind.

Daredevil.

With Foggy.

This time is different though, she can feel it. She can _hear_ it. His voice, the voice of the Daredevil, a man who strikes fear into the heart of villains all over Hell's Kitchen, a voice that can make people quake in their shoes just at the merest sound of it - no longer dark with the blood red colour of Daredevil, no longer teasing like the light-hearted softness he’d taken with Foggy in Foggy’s apartment - instead a voice laced with tears.

For a moment, it sounds vaguely familiar, her mind searching to put a match to it but coming up empty. It probably just sounds familiar from all the times she’s heard him talking to Foggy in the past few weeks, she reasons with herself - not to mention that one time. That one time he’d saved her in the aftermath of an event which tilted her life on an angle, an event that changed who she was, who she would become, back when she was a client instead of an employee at Nelson and Murdock: back when everything was different.

 “It’s okay,” Foggy sounds pained. Tired. Strained. But still Foggy. It brings a smile to her lips - his inability – even now, drugged up on pain medication, laying in a hospital bed - to be anything other than the lively cheery soul who can crack a joke to liven the mood in any situation - even if she is - yet _again_ \- accidently spying on her best friend. A part of her feels guilty. A part of her is just happy to hear his voice - no matter how pained it sounds, no matter if she’s eavesdropping or not - his very real, very alive voice.

“It’s not okay. I should have been there, Foggy, to protect you. I knew this would happen. I knew it. I knew they’d use you-”

Karen sucks in a breath. She hadn’t thought of that - of the very real possibility that Foggy would become a target because of his love for the man in the mask - _is_ a target because of his love for the man in the mask. It seems so obvious now, something she should have noticed right away, as soon as she saw Foggy talking to him, as soon as she saw them kissing in the rain. It seems like something she should have worried about sooner.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Foggy’s voice comes in, louder this time, cutting the Daredevil off.

Maybe that’s why Foggy isn’t telling her.

Maybe it’s because he _is_ looking out for her - in a weird kind of way - because Foggy is smart as heck - something not nearly enough people give him credit for - and there is no way he hasn’t had it worked out from the moment he’d found out this guy was Daredevil (he said he’d known him before that - last time) that he was going to be in danger, that _anyone_ who knows who this man is will be in danger.

“You _said_ it, Foggy. You said it. By doing this I’ve dragged you into it- into this world with me. I’d made this decision for you- you _said-”_

“I was angry,” Foggy interjects, “I said a lot of things.”

“You weren’t lying about any of them either,” comes the quiet response a moment later, so quiet Karen almost doesn’t hear, “I can tell when people lie, Foggy. You weren’t lying.”

Foggy sighs, loud - loud enough for Karen to here from the other side of the door - and then he begins:

Karen’s heard him make speeches to the courtroom before, heard him convince whole Juries of his client's innocence. Matt is - admittedly - better at the speech thing, but where Matt makes people think, Foggy makes people care, makes people think he’s trustworthy. He has the face for it, the attitude, Karen’s ever in awe of the speeches she’s had the pleasure of listening to him make in court.

None of them even come close to the one he makes now - not convincing a jury, convincing a devil.

“Was I lying when I told you I am okay with it? Am I lying right now when I say that I love you and I’ve grown to love Daredevil just as much? Yes, I sometimes wish you weren’t out there fighting the Russian Mafia every weekend, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to patching you up no matter how many times I do it. I wasn’t built to be a doctor or deal with the guy I care about most in this whole world bleeding out on my carpet every other night. But I _love_ you. So _even if_ I hated Daredevil with a fiery passion - which I don’t by the way - but _if_ I hated that aspect of what you do with your life that wouldn’t matter because I’d still _love_ it, just like you hate my singing at work and in the shower, yet you still _love_ it because it’s part of me. I _love_ you, daredevil and all. And this wasn’t your fault.”

There’s a pause. Brief. Short. A second to catch up to the magnitude of exactly what Foggy has just said. Then:

“Tell me if I’m lying.”

There’s yet another pause, brief as ever, one in which Karen is suddenly left to ponder the fact that apparently Daredevil can tell if Foggy is lying - which leads to a whole list of other questions. Is that his only power? Could he be more than just a lie detector and kick ass awesome? For some reason she’s just assumed he doesn’t have powers - the whole city assumed that. He isn’t iron man or Captain America or Hulk, just a man dressed as the devil, running around in a mask - yet maybe, just maybe, they are wrong. Just because they don't have solid facts about this man - about who he is - doesn’t mean they should assume.

Oh, and the fact that Foggy loves him. That one hits hard.

Relatively speaking, she supposes the fact shouldn’t be a shock. They obviously care deeply for each other, she’d already worked out that they were obviously in a relationship of some kind. But Foggy _loves_ him. There’s no lie in his voice, even she can tell that.

Foggy Nelson is not just head over heels for Daredevil.

Foggy Nelson loves him completely, with everything he has. He loves him enough to stay awake, when his body is so obviously struggling, so obviously weighed down with pain medication and the need for rest. He loves him enough to make speeches that would convince a whole court room of his love, loves him enough to make crazy Buffy references and kiss him in the rain and flirt in the most awful way possible.

Foggy Nelson _loves_ Daredevil.

Laid out plain as day before her are the facts, simple. Simple. Foggy loves the Daredevil. Simple.

Well not that simple, as she’s said before – nothing in her life is ever simple. Certainly not her best friend loving the man half the city want to go after with pitch forks.

_Tell me if I’m lying_

“You’re not.” finally comes the response, short, yet full. Full of emotions. Full of tears, she suspects, from the way it sounds.

“Right, glad that’s sorted. Now, come here and kiss me better and then get gone, alright? Come visit me when I’m a bit less tired, a bit less high on pain medication, and you’re wearing something a little more normal, yeah? You know I hate the horns.”

“You love the horns,” the other interjects, his words sounding just a little wet around their playful lit.

“Hmmm…nope, I can assure you I don’t.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re high on pain medication. It’s making you crazy.” And it’s so strange, Karen thinks, how they can go from crying to teasing. Their relationship is almost perfect, the kind everyone dreams about, the kind you see in movies; at least that’s what she’s managed to gather from it. She’s not even surprised when Foggy makes a lame attempt at flirting _again._ It seems a signature thing with him.

“I’m crazy about you. Now kiss me goddamn it.”

Karen watches through the little widow as the Daredevil leans over Foggy’s bedside, watches as the two shadows of men become one long thin shadow - a kiss she can’t hear (thankfully) and can only just see. She watches as the Daredevil pulls back, watches as he walks towards the window and Karen realises a second before it happens that he’s about to jump out of it.

A flutter of red in the darkness.

He’s gone.

Karen counts to ten, forces herself to wait, then pushes the door open.

By the time she gets to Foggy’s bedside he’s already fast asleep, doesn’t even stir when Karen takes his hand to press a chaste kiss to its palm and whisper a soft “I’m glad you’re okay,” her voice thick and full of emotion - almost as much as the Daredevil’s was just a moment ago. Foggy looks peaceful all wrapped up in bed, it’s almost hard to believe a second ago he was giving speeches to a man in a mask about how much he loves him.

Foggy is in love with the Daredevil, the Daredevil who had said he’d hunted down the bastards who did this to Foggy.

Maybe knowing him - loving him - is dangerous in Foggy’s case. Maybe that’s why Foggy hasn’t told her.

But knowing the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is on their side? That the people who stabbed Foggy on the street aren’t a threat anymore?

That isn’t such a bad feeling.

Karen stays with Foggy the next few days, barely goes home. Matt stays too - once he finally gets there - looking stupidly casual in a worn out ‘Buffy’ shirt instead of his usual suit - a shirt that causes Foggy to laugh loud and bright when he sees it, even if he’s in pain - leaving Matt to explain his and Foggy’s rather large obsession with the show they’d built up during college.

Karen waits for someone who’s not Matt or herself to come and see Foggy.

Karen waits for the Daredevil.

He doesn’t come.

Foggy won’t stop smiling though - even if he’s in pain - and despite how infuriating it is that she hasn’t managed to work out who the Daredevil is yet - it’s fine as long as Foggy’s okay.

Foggy’s okay.

It’s fine.

 

\-----

 

_Things I know about_ __ _~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~ _ _Daredevil by Karen Page:_

_1)_ _He saved my life._

 _2)_ _He believes in doing the right thing._

 _3)_ _He can fight (a bit like a ninja)_

 _4)_ _He’s probably hot_

 _5)_ _He has a deep voice_

 _6)_ _~~He might be a terrorist.~~ _

_7)_ _He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

 _8)_ _He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

 _9)_ _He looks after this city._

 _10)_ _My boss/best friend knows who he is._

 _11)_ _He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain._

 _12)_ _According to my boss/best friend he can get ill from the rain like anyone else can._

 _13)_ _Is in some sort of serious relationship with my boss/best friend._

 _14)_ _Knew my boss/best friend back when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen_

 _15)_ _Knew my boss/best friend before my boss/best friend knew he was Daredevil_

 _16)_ _He recites Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) – is probably smart or at least a drama student – or maybe just a really big dork._

 _17)_ _Likes Buffy_

 _18)_ _My boss/best friend called him ‘a very, very good looking guy’ the first time he met him._

 _19)_ _My boss/best friend made references to Maverick and Goose the first time he met him._

 _20)_ _Daredevil is good at spoiling your references with nerdy facts._

 _21)_ _Will sometimes sing ‘uptown funk’ when prompted to (like everyone else on the planet)_

 _22)_ _Has silk sheets (wealthy? A snob?)_

 _23)_ _My boss/best friend loves him_

 _24)_ _My boss/best friend might actually be hiding him from me to try and keep me safe_

 _25)_ _He might be a danger to my boss/best friend_

 _26)_ _He might also be an asset – willing to go and beat people up for my boss/best friend if they dare to touch him_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for apologies - I was supposed to upload yesterday, but alas, we have moved into the region of exam week(s) - so as I struggle to keep up with revision, I may struggle to upload. It won't last forever, promise. Just for two more weeks. Wish me luck on my Chemistry exam on friday - I'm going to need all the help I can get.
> 
> Writing is a good way to procrastinate though.
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always. Yes room 312 is the room that Matt and Foggy shared in college - consider it an easter egg, I just couldn't miss the opportunity to not use that door number. I'm a sentimental sap I know. Comments and kudos are the reasons I make it through the week - thank you to everyone who has commented/left kudos so far. I haven't been replying to your comments because I'm an awful person who needs to be shot (and revision) but I'll try and reply to everyone tonight, okay? Thank you for sticking with this - all your positive support makes my heart ache with happiness.


	5. Chapter 5

-/4/4/-

 

Steam floats in mists of grey and white clouds from the boiling kettle, water carefully added to the white chipped steaming cup of hot coffee Karen is nursing with one hand, her other tapping a delicate beat lightly against the side, lost in her thoughts.

From her position leaning against the counter, crystal blue eyes can just manage to keep a firm track of Foggy sitting typing out files at his desk: one hand pressing the keys against the keyboard, the other still wrapped up tight in the hospital ordered sling. He looks a little tired, the bags under his eyes a great indicator of exactly _just_ how tired he actually is, but still it is the best she’s seen him in over a month.

After the whole ‘stabbing thing’ and Foggy being unable to come to work--

 (Doctors’ orders, something Foggy himself was _not_ happy about-

“ _Think of all the people we won’t be able to help! Think of all the people I won’t be able to stand up for in court with my witty words and large lawyer knowledge! Think of all those lovely people who_ won’t _be making me home baked goods to say thank you for winning their cases!” Foggy had whined, looking just a little bit too much like a child pleading for the puppy their parent refused to buy._

_Matt’s mouth had flexed into a sort-of-smile, words fond yet laced with worry in his response. The doctors had said Foggy was fine, but Matt had seemed dubious, she kept on catching him asking if Foggy felt okay, or if he felt faint or if he’d like to rest now, if he’d like to eat now. It was…sweet in a way, how worried he was for his best friend. Sometimes though, she had to wonder if half the questions were so he could text the response to Daredevil because, honestly, half the time they were acting like an overbearing married couple rather than the friends they were. But then again, that was just how Foggy and Matt worked, right? Business Partners – far more important than marriage._

_“Shut up, Foggy, you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine” – Karen had watched from her side of Foggy’s bed as Matt had squeezed their clasped hands together, shaking his head, “you’ll be fine.”_ ),

\--The office had practically shut down around him - Matt nearly always over at Foggy’s apartment, or when Matt couldn’t be or when he wanted to come into the office to just to quickly check in on things - to make sure there were no pressing clients or cases that Foggy would want to use his ‘witty words and large lawyer knowledge’ for in court - Karen going round to Foggy’s herself.

Admittedly, Foggy didn’t really need looking after. He’d explained multiple times that it had just been a scare, nothing major, nothing that required ‘intense looking after’. Karen found it amazing how Matt - the blind man - somehow (Karen has a feeling it was something to do with the raised eyebrows, what made Matt’s glare so effective, it really shouldn’t be - not when Matt couldn’t actually _look_ at someone to glare at them in the first place) which usually shut Foggy up good and proper with nothing more than a drawn out sigh and some general mutterings about Matt’s own various injuries - like the one memorable time when Karen had gotten a phone call saying Matt had just been hit by a car from Foggy.

Foggy has a point, but she doesn’t join in. Matt’s always bumping into things - he’s always fine. This is the first time Foggy’s gotten stabbed. Matt with Foggy like this though...

Karen has never quite seen Matt in the state that he’s been in in the last couple of months before. He’s been...sweet. Gentle little things like running a hand through Foggy’s hair while he works on the documents Foggy insisted they bring over from the office every now and then, or a jacket pressed around Foggy’s shoulders when the blonde haired man fell asleep - sometimes in the most ridiculous of places under the weight of all the painkillers he was taking. Matt has _fussed_ over, Foggy. It is...almost quite endearing actually. To see Matt like that.

Then again, Foggy is his best friend, she supposes it makes sense. She certainly has been - is still doing - her fair share of fussing too. Foggy may not have needed ‘intense looking after’ but that hasn’t stopped either Matt or Karen from doing just that.

The office seems quiet today on Foggy’s third day back to work. Despite the fact that he doesn’t actually speak much at work, almost constantly ‘plugged in’ - as Foggy calls it - to his computer, listening to the information spoken out through his headphones, typing and reading the various pieces of braille he has lying around about the various cases they take - Matt’s absence always seems to dampen the atmosphere in the office. They are a three, not a two or a one. They work best as such.

Matt had called in earlier though, shaking out an apology, explaining that he really wasn’t feeling one hundred percent today, that he was desperately sorry and that - hopefully - they’d see him bright and early tomorrow morning, ready to work.

It’s a second before she realises that the gentle pitter patter of keys that has been playing like background music to her ears, has stopped, her eyes glancing up to find Foggy staring absently at his desk.

“Fog?”

Eyes dance up to meet hers, perhaps a little too quickly pushing the piece of paper his eyes were trained too - not a desk, a piece of paper she sees now - underneath one of the files cluttering his work space, a smile against his lips that seems to stem a little too much from the blush now peppering his cheeks, as if he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be caught doing; a teenager in trouble with an angry mother, trying desperately to hide the hickey marks on their neck.

“Nothing. Nothing. Sorry - lost myself for a moment there,” he mutters, casually, but the blush is only growing as he rambles on. For a second she wants to reach out and grab the piece of paper his eyes were focused on when she looked up to see why he’d stopped typing, wave it in front of him like a child playing some silly game. Of course, she doesn’t but she half wishes she was the kind of person who would, just to be a tease.

She’s stops herself from doing such a thing because: A) Foggy was stabbed about a month ago, something Karen will never forget, something that definitely means he deserves a break until some point in the unforeseeable future Karen see’s it fit to stop treating him like glass - even Matt isn’t teasing him so much anymore - B) she really isn’t that kind of person. She doesn’t tease, she’s never been the type. And C) there’s only one person - well maybe two - that she can see making Foggy blush like that. The first being Marci Stahl, the hot bitch - no matter how hard she tries Karen cannot work out her relationship with Foggy. She’s almost one hundred percent sure they’re not having sex anymore - not after seeing Foggy with Daredevil because Foggy is not – could never be - a cheating scumbag. Karen’s met cheating scumbags – she’s been cheated on herself by cheating scumbags – and Foggy is simple not the type at all.

Still sometimes Marci will walk in, all high heels and red lips like she owns the place, snap her fingers, and Foggy will be grabbing his coat and walking out the door with her.

Matt once said they go out and get their hair done together.

Sometimes Karen might believe him - when Foggy walks in with his hair seemingly styled better than her own.

It’s something to laugh about in any case.

But anyway, she’s almost one hundred percent sure that Marci and Foggy got over the blushing part of their relationship, she’s more of a bitchy best friend if anything - which leaves only _one_ person that could get Foggy to blush like that.

“Hey, it’s fine,” she says absently, watching Foggy stand up, rushing to take his arm and steady him just in case.

Foggy rolls his eyes immediately at the gesture, “you are as bad as Matt, I swear to god. I may have got stabbed just a little bit, I did not go blind or need leading across the room like one asshole we both know,” he laughs, his words fond, as they always are when they speak of Matt.

Karen’s only ever actually seen them fight once, and they refuse to talk about it. Ever. It’s sort of a no go area - the big fight that ended up with the Nelson and Murdock’s sign slung in the bin and a wave of tension that hadn’t left the office for days and days, that had almost ripped them apart at their seams.

She never did find out what that argument was about, just that they both completely adamant it was Matt’s fault it ever happened in the first place. She is fine with that, the whole thing was - is - deep, personal - the kind of fight that left aching hearts lying bleeding on the floor, the kind of fight that ended up with a million shattered pieces, a million shattered memories that you can either pick up and try to mend or walk away from altogether.

Karen is just thankful every day that they had decided to pick up the pieces and move on instead of walking away.

Foggy told her once when he was drunk those were the worst days of his life - there is no doubt in Karen’s mind that he was telling the absolute truth.

“I’m gonna head out. Gonna check on Matt. It’s about time for a lunch break anyway - be back in an hour?” Foggy says, slightly timidly, placing a light kiss to Karen’s cheek on his way past, grabbing his coat and shrugging it over the arm that’s isn’t all wrapped up in a sling.

“Don’t get stabbed,” Karen calls, only half kidding. Foggy laughs.

Then she’s alone.

She shouldn’t look, she really shouldn’t.

 She’s going to anyway.

Her heels click against the floor with just a little bit less aggression than what Marci portrays when walking in a room, sitting down in Foggy’s chair. It’s still a little warm from Foggy sitting in it moments before. Her hands sneak underneath the case file to pull out....

 _Yes. She_ knew _it._

It’s a frikin’ love note, like Foggy and this Daredevil guy are stuck in a crappy high school romance or something. The handwriting is, admittedly, awful, and she wonders vaguely how a guy who can kick ass like a god has writing that looks not much better than that of a rushed seven year old boy.

It’s still readable though - just.

Her eyes scan over it lightly, feeling her own blush creep across her cheeks as she does.

 

 

_Foggy,_

_I don’t think we’ll be able to see each other for most of today - something went wrong last night. I’m fine, I promise, but the couch has yet again become my home I’m afraid. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you next, which I can’t imagine will be long._

_You’re still going to worry, I know you are, but I swear the injuries aren’t half as bad as what you went through - which I am sorry for. Again._

_I love you._

_I can’t wait for you to be here next to me, kiss all my wounds better. You’re so good at that Foggy - kissing the bruises better, making new ones for me to enjoy – hickeys do count as bruises right?_

_DO NOT take time off work to come see me. I’ll be fine._

_Yours truly,_

_You’re favourite Avocado_

_P.S I can already hear you putting your coat on now to come round. I hate you sometimes. See you soon for lots of kisses and hopefully not too much shouting on your account. I can’t help it if these bad guys keep on bringing in ninja’s to bring me down._

_xxxxxxxx_

 

 

She only reads it once - she does not need to be thinking about Foggy and hickeys, she’s had enough mental images of these two kissing - enough real solid memories - to last decades, enough to last lifetimes.

She loves Foggy, she really does - but she draws the line at thinking about him giving anyone hickeys - kisses she can perhaps deal with – Hickey’s is something else entirely.

The word Avocado strikes something though, the barest of memories, something Matt said. _Avocados at Law._ They never did explain that story, although now she might have to ask Matt about it, or Foggy - one of the two. It could mean anything, could mean that the three of them have some inside joke about avocado’s (because Matt _knows_ \- he has to, and seen as Matt has to know, it was likely the man is friends with Daredevil as well, enough to have inside jokes). Hell, maybe it even means that the Daredevil is some kind of lawyer in his spare time, although that does seem highly unlikely. A lawyer and a vigilante? Weren’t they sort of the opposite of one another? Working outside the law at night, then working within the law at work? It seems awfully unrealistic.

Maybe they all went to law school together or something and _then_ they went separate ways – two in the path of the law, one to the night life of a vigilante. Matt had said at the hospital he and Foggy had developed their ‘Buffy obsession’ at college and she’d heard Foggy joke about Buffy with the Daredevil in his bedroom. All the clues led to them being college buddies.

Still she has learned one - no two definite things here. One: The daredevil has awful handwriting. Two: the Daredevil is in love with Foggy, just as much as Foggy is in love with him. While the Daredevil may not have given some big speech about how much he loves Foggy - at least not one that Karen has had the pleasure of hearing - his actions, mixed with those three words on the page: ‘I love you’ proves it.

Foggy Nelson is in love with the Daredevil.

The Daredevil is in love with Foggy Nelson.

Again, she has to state, nothing in her life is ever simple.

One day, she’s really going to have to consult Foggy about this mess he’s so elegantly gotten himself into. One day she is going to have to call him out on it. It’s a weird concept perhaps, but she feels strangely like she’s lying to Foggy by not letting him know that she’s fully aware of him and Daredevil’s relationship. A childish part of her brain is quick to remind her that Foggy started it, Foggy lied to her first. The other half is clear to remind her about what she saw the other night and exactly why Foggy might have chosen to keep this part of his life private.

One day though, she’s going to consult him, and one day he’s gonna take her to meet his boyfriend like a civilized gentleman.

Today though, she replaces the note with ease, slotting it under the numerous files that Foggy had hidden it under before.

For now she lets Foggy have his secrets, let’s Foggy pretend to go and see Matt, lets Foggy kiss the Daredevil.

For now.

 

\----

 

_ Things I know about   ~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~    Daredevil by Karen Page: _

__

_ 1)       He saved my life. _

__

_ 2)       He believes in doing the right thing. _

__

_ 3)       He can fight (a bit like a ninja) _

__

_ 4)       He’s probably hot _

__

_ 5)       He has a deep voice _

__

_ 6)        ~~He might be a terrorist.~~ _

__

_ 7)       He helped track down and lock up Fisk. _

__

_ 8)       He’s on our side and not a terrorist. _

__

_ 9)       He looks after this city. _

__

_ 10)    My boss/best friend knows who he is. _

__

_ 11)    He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain. _

__

_ 12)    According to my boss/best friend he can get ill from the rain like anyone else can. _

__

_ 13)    Is in some sort of serious relationship with my boss/best friend. _

__

_ 14)    Knew my boss/best friend back when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen _

__

_ 15)    Knew my boss/best friend before my boss/best friend knew he was Daredevil _

__

_ 16)    He recites Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) – is probably smart or at least a drama student – or maybe just a really big dork. _

__

_ 17)    Likes Buffy _

__

_ 18)    My boss/best friend called him ‘a very, very good looking guy’ the first time he met him. _

__

_ 19)    My boss/best friend made references to Maverick and Goose the first time he met him. _

__

_ 20)    Daredevil is good at spoiling your references with nerdy facts. _

__

_ 21)    Will sometimes sing ‘uptown funk’ when prompted to (like everyone else on the planet) _

__

_ 22)    Has silk sheets (wealthy? A snob?) _

__

_ 23)    My boss/best friend loves him _

__

_ 24)    My boss/best friend might actually be hiding him from me to try and keep me safe _

__

_ 25)    He might be a danger to my boss/best friend _

__

_ 26)    He might also be an asset – willing to go and beat people up for my boss/best friend if they dare to touch him _

__

_ 27)     He writes love notes like he’s some love sick kid in high school _

_ 28)      ~~He likes hickeys~~ _

__

_ 29)     He loves my boss/Best friend _

__

_ 30)     He has awful handwriting. _

__

_ 31)     He was possibly friends with Matt and Foggy at college? _

__

_ 32)     He possibly went to college with Matt and Foggy? _

__

_ 33)     He is an ‘avocado’ which may or may not make him a lawyer _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so why do you ask - if Foggy can read braille - would Matt write him a letter? Well, if Foggy learned how to read braille, Matt is totally the kind of guy would would learn to write like a non-blind human being so that he could leave Foggy adorable fluffy messages in his office. The letter was planted by Matt before he went home after running in with 'a ninja' but Foggy only noticed it then.
> 
> Sorry for the slowness in this chapter, I wanted something light and nice to sort of break up the action. There will be much Daredevil/Foggy interaction soon I promise. Just this chapter I wanted something slow.
> 
> All feedback is wonderful, please, it's actually really helping me mess around with the chapters to come up and make them perfect.


	6. Chapter 6

-/5/5/-

 

Showering sparks like hell’s raindrops over the room where blood remains splattered across the walls, bodies lifeless, immobile, lay in piles, slumped against crates like ragdolls or left to lay against the floor, as if they’d wake up any second, as if they weren’t already dead and gone, spirits lost to a world she could only pray was nicer than here.

Perhaps a year ago she would have been screaming by now.

But these hands had held a gun between their fingertips and pulled the trigger, these eyes had cried tears for a man she’d cared for as they put him in the ground because of the work that she’d _asked_ him to do, this body had been almost strangled to death in the middle of a police department, in the darkness of a cell that was supposed to be protect her.

She is not the same women she was a year ago.

She does not scream.

The world around her seems almost absent, like her whole life – her whole being - has just gone numb, as if this is nothing but a movie, something she isn’t really living in, just a dream she’ll be able to wake up from any second. In the room a few feet away, behind a blood smeared green door, she knows Foggy is trapped as well, tied to a chair just like she is.

A year ago she’d have been scared for her friend.

Now she is scared for the person who has dared to hurt him.

Perhaps Foggy hasn’t told her himself, but she’s known for nearly five months now:

The Daredevil loves Foggy Nelson.

The Daredevil: the man who takes on the world in dark red leather and leaves bodies bleeding in his wake. A man whose only job seems to be keeping this city safe, yet does it bathed in blood. A man who has the devil in him – no matter how much of an angel he might be – a man capable of causing so much pain, of taking down criminal organizations relentlessly, a man capable of keeping the rotten streets of Hell’s Kitchen safe – just by existing.

This man, this devil, this hero: this _Daredevil:_ he is in love with Foggy Nelson.

You do not hurt Foggy Nelson.

Not unless you’re willing to die for your mistake.

It is evident enough in the pile of just-shy-of-beaten-to-death bodies the police had found after Foggy had been put in hospital, only just breathing, with words of the devil coming to get them echoing from their lips in their minds daze.

Some of them had been taken to hospital, most of them in comas.

Some of them hadn’t made it through. Perhaps this was to do with the fact that many refused treatment, perhaps it was the fact that the ones in coma were deemed brain dead so their plugs were pulled. It was not direct murder, not exactly.

Still the papers didn’t see it like that.

The press had been quick to call it murder.

It was the first time she’d heard of the devil killing anyone - even if technically he hadn’t -  and while some people in the city used it as fuel from the fire, she knew better. It was a message, what he’d done, putting them in hospital:

_Touch Foggy Nelson and you’ll regret it._

The devil is watching out for Foggy, right now that is comfort enough, enough for her to ignore the lifeless bodies around her, to ignore the men in black suits that keep coming to check on her, to ignore the sting of a knuckle across her face, to ignore the ropes tied too tight, cutting into her ankles and her wrists.

She’s been here for hours, had been pulled right of the streets in order to be dragged here - to this warehouse, giving her some kind of drug to knock her out so she wouldn’t fight while they tied her up and placed her here. She’s sat in a chair, tied up, but breathing. They aren’t killing her - at least not yet - just throwing the occasional punch her way.

The next moment happens so fast she’s barely has time to process it.

There’s a second: a second where she’s sat, face bruised but not broken, head facing forwards, icy blue eyes fixed on nothing in particular, listening to the sound of her own heartbeat, the reassurance that she is not a doll lying lifeless on the floor like the bodies around her, that she is done being scared of all the dark places this city has to offer, that she’ll be damned if she lets them see her cry.

She is not the same women she was a year ago.

She is Karen Page.

A man walks, hands clutching a gun like it’s merely an extension of his arm, another beside him instead favours what looks a little like a pointed baseball bat; they guard her like she is nothing more than an animal in a cage.

The second passes: There is a man dressed in red, the same colour as the red that paints the walls around them, horns that speak of the devil, a smile void of humour, void of happiness - just...void. He moves so fast she barely had chance to register he’s there before the two guards are disabled, lying, breathing but unconscious on the floor with the other bodies that litter the floor.

It’s over before it’s even begun.

She knew he’d come for them. Come for _Foggy -_ but come for her as well.

She’s safe again.

The Daredevil faces her way, breathing ragged as he walks forward, “Miss Page,” he murmurs, and any fear her mind is clinging onto floats away as she watches him lean around to untie the knots which bind her to her chair.

“Daredevil.”

He gives a wire grin, his mouth the only part she can see under the mask, his mouth and the growing stubble lining his jaw, making him look like he might be one of those ruggedly handsome fellows who look like don’t actually take care of their appearance at all which _somehow_ manages to make them look like totally hot fucks.

She might have had a crush on him once. Maybe. A long time ago. It’s not so surprising to find that washed away now. She’s only looking at his lips because there’s nowhere else to look but the black circles that are made to depict eyes - something that’s a little too creepy to look at. This man is in love with her best friend: so completely that he sends love notes to him when he’s at work, kisses him in the rain, comes to visit him in the darkness of a hospital, is willing to beat up men until they’re half dead.

Her feelings were nothing, fleeting, more gratitude for the man who saved her life than something solid. The second she told him about them, they would have faded: nothing more than a childs crush on a celebrity or a superhero.

Foggy’s feeling are real and burn true, just as the daredevils are for him.

He helps her up with one hand, and Karen takes a moment, just a moment, to actually say something half way normal to him. If this is going to be the man who Foggy marries one day, he’s already family, she might as well get to know him, “how do you see out of those black holes? It seems awfully impractical. Is it like those dark tinted sunglasses?”

He laughs, surprisingly, and the sound is vaguely familiar, like she’s heard it before although where exactly she can’t quite place, “there are other ways to see,” he murmurs, standing back, “your partner-”

“Right through that door,” Karen says, gentle now, her voice soft despite what she’s just been put through. She’s a strong women but tonight there will still be ice cream and a nice long shower, things to take her mind away from what happened here in this warehouse full of dead bodies like it was pulled straight from a horror movie, anything to wash the smell of blood clean from her nose.

But the Daredevil is here to save the man he loves, she’s kind of a side effect. She’s not sure exactly, whether she was taken because she knew Foggy and the assumption was that if she was close to Foggy she’d be close to Daredevil, or whether this has nothing to do with Daredevil at all. It wouldn’t be the first time something bad has happened as a side effect of her job - people in Hell’s Kitchen rarely like lawyers and a law firm like theirs, one that prides itself in getting people out of tight spots where they seemingly have worked themselves into a corner, a law firm that prides itself on helping the innocent prove they’re right: it is safe to say they have a few enemies.

“Thank you.” he sounds a little breathless – not from the fight, but perhaps from relief - one hand moving to sooth down her hair, a comforting gesture she’s very happy to be blessed with, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Karen doesn’t doubt it.

He walks through the doors to the room Foggy’s being held in a moment later. Karen listens. There’s barely a struggle at all, she hears nothing but a few muffled cries and then, a second later:

“You’re late.”

She almost laughs. Almost. That might give away that she’s listening though, might give away that the acoustics in these rooms means that she can hear what they’re saying. While she’s had enough of hearing them be together for a lifetime now - she’s happy they’re happy, and if she was actually told instead of the sneaky way she had been uncovering things for the last few months she’d be totally on board with making Foggy a cake to celebrate his beautiful superhero boyfriend. However their private life should be their private life, she’s sick of feeling like a creep - she thinks they deserve a little heartfelt moment. They seem like the kind of pair to have those a lot.

“What can I say; traffic was terrible.”

Foggy’s laugh fills the air. Still laughing. Even after a night like this.

“What’d they want, you find out?” Foggy asks a moment later, as if this is normal, as if he gets kidnapped all the time. Karen really hopes that isn’t the case. Foggy getting kidnapped all the time is not on the list of things she really wants worrying her on a day to day basis.

“They didn’t like the case - you know - the Cleveland one, with the lady who made nice pies.”

“Miss Dorcless. Yeah, she was awesome.” Foggy agrees, “She actually _spoke_ Punjabi. I was beginning to think it was just a made up language no one actually knew.”

Foggy’s right, Karen things, Miss Dorcless was awesome. An old lady who could totally stand her own and was being accused of something to do with drugs. All the evidence pointed to her, Karen had stated that as soon as they’d gotten the file, but she sort of reminded Karen of Mrs Cardenas minus the Spanish part and she absolutely loved Foggy with all her heart (perhaps due to the fact that _he_ spoke Punjabi).

Turns out she wasn’t guilty.

Thank god for Matt’s ‘feelings’ about people.

The mention of her makes Karen pause for a second though. When did Daredevil meet her? She couldn’t remember Foggy having anyone over to the office during the case, and right now anyone Foggy introduces her to she is scanning for signs of the Daredevil lying somewhere within them. She’s come up empty on every single one.

Did Foggy just like to talk about cases at the office with this guy? What did that _mean_ the fact that Daredevil knew who she was _?_ Probably nothing. Probably. Couples spoke about their days at work - right?

“Hmmm, I know. _You_ certainly don’t speak it – at least not very well,” the Daredevil teases, and she hears what sounds like a light slap – she’s willing to bet her life that Foggy just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, apparently some people really wanted her to go down for the drug thing. It’s okay now, I’ve sorted it,” Daredevil says easily. Karen wonders, for a brief moment, if they’ll think about coming after Matt - if she should warn him. A hand goes to her pocket, but the phones not there, they must have taken it while she was knocked out. Bastards.

“You’ve sorted it,” Foggy says, and it sounds sort of half fond, half exasperated.

“I’ve sorted it,” The Daredevil repeats.

“I’m gonna sort

“I’ve sorted it,” The Daredevil repeats.

“I’m gonna sort _you_ tonight,” Foggy replies, voice all low. Bad flirting, Karen thinks, automatically, she never knew how _bad_ Foggy actually was at flirting – she swears it wasn’t this bad when Foggy was flirting with her back when they first met. Then again, Foggy never _loved_ her. Not in that sense. Not like she loves him. Foggy’s still talking, “what’s that Shakespeare quote you love so much? ‘I do nothing in the world as much as you’ – that’s it.”

The Daredevil chuckles, “It’s ‘I do _love_ nothing in the world as much as you,’ Foggy.” He says, and he sounds exasperated now, “Karen’s waiting. Let’s get you out of here, we can talk more later and you can...sort me out when we get home,” the Daredevil says back, and from where she is in the next room along she can _just_ make out the sound of ropes falling to the ground, of Foggy being let free of his binds.

“Karen can wait another second,” she almost doesn’t catch that last reply, and most certainly rolls her eyes at it because as expected, the sound of lips on lips fills the room next door – the sound trickling through the thin wall, as Karen very well expected it would do, because it seems these two have to kiss every time Karen is cornered into a closet or listening behind a wall or a door. They can’t even keep their kisses out of their love notes.

It’s sweet. Just how love should be.

It’s also making her feel just a bit like a creep, even if she isn’t at all intending to hear them kiss whenever she does.

“Thanks for rescuing me, prince Charming,”

“Does that make you the damsel in distress?” comes the teasing reply.

“Fuck off,” Foggy’s voice is there again, loud now, moving closer towards where Karen is waiting.

She can’t hear much of the others response to that, but she thinks she hears a low muttering, a few words whispered under the Daredevil’s breath, “ _But love is blind, and lovers cannot see, the pretty follies that themselves commit; for, if they could, Cupid himself would blush.”_

“Shut up with your Shakespeare,” comes a final response, although it’s said between giggles as the sound of steps jumps up over the words.

The bloodstained door opens and Foggy carefully avoids the bodies on the floor in his rush to get to Karen, wrapping arms around her and she leans into it, and says nothing on the subject of bad flirting, Shakespeare or kissing, pretends she never heard the words that transpired behind that wall.

“God, being a lawyer is risky business. Did I ever tell you my mother wanted me to be a butcher?” Foggy says, head buried in Karen’s neck before he pulls back, “come on, Karen. Let’s go home.”

The Daredevil stands by the door, watching over their small reunion for a second, remote from them both as if he wasn’t close to Foggy at all – something he knows to be desperately not true. After Foggy pulls away, the Daredevil clears his throat, signalling that they should leave. He helps them down to the first floor and gives them a phone so they can ring the cops before he leaves; so that Foggy and Karen can give a statement and someone can work out why there’s a warehouse full of dead bodies hanging around in the centre of Hell’s Kitchen. Karen eventually gets Matt on the phone who - thankfully – hadn’t been kidnapped like they had been.

Eventually Karen actually does get to go home to her shower and ice cream.

Foggy says he’s going to his house.

Karen doesn’t believe him.

Home is where the heart is, she knows he’s going to see his masked man.

She’s really going to have to confront him on this pretty soon.

 

\-----

 

_Things I know about ~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen~~    Daredevil by Karen Page:_

_1)       He saved my life._

_2)       He believes in doing the right thing._

_3)       He can fight (a bit like a ninja)_

_4)       He’s probably hot_

_5)       He has a deep voice_

_6) ~~He might be a terrorist.~~_

_7)       He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

_8)       He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

_9)       He looks after this city._

_10)    My boss/best friend knows who he is._

_11)    He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain._

_12)    According to my boss/best friend he can get ill from the rain like anyone else can._

_13)    Is in some sort of serious relationship with my boss/best friend._

_14)    Knew my boss/best friend back when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen_

_15)    Knew my boss/best friend before my boss/best friend knew he was Daredevil_

_16)    He recites Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) – is probably smart or at least a drama student – or maybe just a really big dork._

_17)    Likes Buffy_

_18)    My boss/best friend called him ‘a very, very good looking guy’ the first time he met him._

_19)    My boss/best friend made references to Maverick and Goose the first time he met him._

_20)    Daredevil is good at spoiling your references with nerdy facts._

_21)    Will sometimes sing ‘uptown funk’ when prompted to (like everyone else on the planet)_

_22)    Has silk sheets (wealthy? A snob?)_

_23)    My boss/best friend loves him_

_24)    My boss/best friend might actually be hiding him from me to try and keep me safe_

_25)    He might be a danger to my boss/best friend_

_26)    He might also be an asset – willing to go and beat people up for my boss/best friend if they dare to touch him_

_27)     He writes love notes like he’s some love sick kid in high school_

 

_28) ~~He likes hickeys~~_

_29)     He loves my boss/Best friend_

_30)     He has awful handwriting._

_31)     He was possibly friends with Matt and Foggy at college?_

_32)     He possibly went to college with Matt and Foggy?_

_33)     He is an ‘avocado’ which may or may not make him a lawyer_

 

_34)   ‘there are other ways to see’ – whatever that means._

 

_35)   He’s gentle – kind._

 

_36)   He can make my boss/best friend laugh even when said boss/best friend has been kidnapped._

 

_39) He really likes shakespeare. Apparently. And love is blind - whatever that means._

 

_38)   I may have to start finding a dress to wear to the Daredevil and my boss/best friend’s wedding because they’re obviously serious about this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly the end now *cries* I've really enjoyed writing this.
> 
> I could resist more Shakespeare (cut me a break I'm a drama student). The 'Love is blind' comes from the Merchant Of Venice, and it honestly fits so well with Matt and Foggy, I could not resist. 
> 
> Thank you for all the feedback you've given so far. Let me know how you like this chapter. The next (and final chapter) will be uploaded on Monday.


	7. Chapter 7

 

-/+1/+1/-

 

The office is quiet when she walks into it, the general sounds of Foggy and Matt - a laugh, a childish argument, the distinct noise of a kettle boiling (their monstrous kettle always sounding more like a hurricane that just a measly contraption built for boiling water) or fingers pressing against the keys on a keyboards, the humming of Matt’s earphones, the tapping of Matt’s cane – none of it anywhere to be heard.

This doesn’t exactly throw her off kilter even if the door was unlocked when she got to work this morning. Both Matt and Foggy have been been late to work before (usually striding through the door together an hour after they _should_ have opened, the smell of donuts drifting in with them: weapons to try and bribe Karen out of being mad with them for coming in so late). Both Matt and Foggy have also forgotten to lock the door to their prestigious law firm on a night before heading home from work sometimes – something they’d evidently done the night before. Nothing about this scene is unusual. They’ll be here soon enough.

Heels clicking as she walks up the flight of stairs she enters the office with ease, giving it a quick once over to make sure that nothing has been stolen as a result of leaving the door open in one of the most criminalized neighbourhoods in the city. She can’t see any evidence of a break in – thankfully, she’d be rightly annoyed if all that old technology she’d bought from that bidding session back at the start of all this was stolen, even if it _would_ teach the boys a lesson about remembering that the key’s on their key rings have a function and aren’t just there to look nice.

She’ll tell the boys off when they walk in – both for being late _and_ for leaving the door unlocked - and leave it at that. There’s no point crying over spilled milk - especially when nothing bad came of it. Maybe if they’d been robbed she would plan to be a little more brutal with the two of them but they haven’t been. Everything is fine.

Time for another day at the office.

Surprisingly – or perhaps unsurprisingly after all this time – she is actually looking forward to it. They _help_ people here. Foggy and Matt and herself. They help people who haven’t done anything wrong, they help people who deserve helping. Even if her job comes with an added bonus of getting kidnapped every now and then she wouldn’t swap it for the world. There’s a certain reward within itself that comes from helping other people – something that makes her feel lighter every day.

After all, if two lawyers hadn’t taken a chance on her and helped her out, where would she be now? Dead maybe? Killed in her cell? Still working for those awful people at union allied? Killed like Daniel Fisher was in her apartment? Nothing good certainly.

She owes Matt and Foggy her life for their help. She wants to be able to repay that debt by helping other people with them. By helping people just like her – good people caught up in bad situations.

Foggy and Matt are family: her brothers, her best friends and she loves them with every inch of her heart. This job has become her life, these cases, these few rooms around her, this is who she is now.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

She can barely see herself at Union Allied now, the idea so foreign to her she wonders how she ever managed life without Nelson and Murdock and the two ginormous dorks that go hand in hand with a pretty great company.

Her eyes skim around the sides, looking for her notebook before she settles down for another morning of looking over resent case notes.

Her notebook is a vital part of her job, she’s poured every case into that notebook since she got here – from the ones right at the start with Mrs Cardenas to the far more resent ones like that guy – Brett Michael - who’d been charged guilty of man slaughter a few weeks ago. Not to mention her ‘Daredevil list’ tucked snugly onto the last page.

She shrugs when she can’t see it automatically. Usually she ends up leaving it in what has been dubbed as ‘the client room’ for when she takes notes on statements and cases - the general things she does as the Nelson and Murdock secretary; along with endless reading and endless paperwork, the brief pauses to joke with Foggy, to check up on Matt: the moments she lives for. If it’s not out here it’ll be in there. Where the magic happens, where they get there cases, where they start the process of helping prove someone innocent.

Pushing the door to the ‘client room’ open, she’s not expecting much more than an empty room, one table, a few chairs, the sound of the city through the window they leave open to ward of the horrid smell that seems to fester under the floorboards of the room, maybe the sound of rats if she’s unlucky. Generally empty. Nothing but ghosts of memories and flickering lights – a room magical to her in a sense – but still nothing more than a room.

She does not find an empty room.

The scene she walks in on not one she’s expecting. In fact, it’s so far out of the expected that she’s almost certain she’s just imagining it, that she’s finally cracked after all the pressure put on her shoulders (she may love her work, but what happened with Fisk, the kidnappings, stuff like that is bound to put a strain on your mental health).

The thing is that _nothing_ in front of her fits within what she’s come to believe over these past few months and as rude as it may seem, all she can do is stand, jaw dropped, confusion flowing through every cell in her body, her eyes raking over the two men standing before her like she’s just walked in on a murder scene – as if she’s just walked in on two ghosts.

Two ghosts _if_ those two ghosts are the ghosts of Christmas _Let's-make-out-like-horny-teenagers_ or something to that effect. She’s pretty sure they didn’t feature in Charles’ Dickens ‘Christmas Carol’ but then again she never did read the book as a child.

_What. The. Hell._

The first thing her eyes really focus on - the first thing that solidifies this as something real in her horridly shocked mind - is Matt’s ruffled hair: a complete mess compared to its usual neatly combed style, sticking up at all angles, the result of fingers dragging through it for what she could only guess has been hours. It makes him look younger, from what she can see of him, makes him look care free and wild and stupid: the teenager she’d never really been able to imagine Matt being.

His back is turned to her, Matt’s body facing away – facing towards the other person - but she can tell that the way he’s holding himself is different from how he stands usually as well. Completely different. Matt has perfect posture usually, but in the position he’s in now, that posture has been washed away like pebbles by the waves.

But that’s not really what she cares about.

Matt’s the one her eyes go to first, but Foggy is the one she can’t draw her gaze from once her eyes finally land on him, Foggy is the reason she’s so unbelievably shocked at what’s going on in front of her that she hasn’t got enough grace or elegance to leave the room and give them some privacy.

The smaller man sits: perching up on the table, legs stretched to bracket Matt’s body fitting easily between them. A hand tangled within the hairs at the back of Matt’s neck, pulling in a way that looks almost too tight, almost too desperate and yet somehow it’s also completely gentle at the same time, like he’s offering all the affection he feels through the gentle caress against Matt’s hair. His other hand grips Matt’s hip, fingers splayed against the grey fabric of Matt’s jacket, thumb and forefinger _just_ breeching the gap to touch the darker material of Matt’s trouser leg;  as if steadying Matt while also pulling him all the more closer, keeping him where he is, close, unbelievably close, closer than she’s ever seen them.

Panting breaths echo in the small room, as Matt crowds close to Foggy, like Foggy is his air, the only way he’ll be able to breathe and he just can’t get enough; like Foggy is his life raft, and he’s drowning. Karen’s eyes catch, for just a second, on where Matt’s hand is, tangled in a chain Karen’s seen a few times hiding underneath the collar of Foggy’s shirts. Matt’s knuckles are tight around it, almost white.

The puzzle pieces are adding up, all little pieces of the picture coming together to create the scene laid out before her. It’s shocking, earth shattering, so unbelievable she’s lost in a sea of confusion that won’t subside.

They’re kissing. Matt and Foggy are kissing.

And it makes no sense.

Karen’s been watching (even if there’s been times where she wishes she hasn’t been). She’s seen it all - well, not it _all_ \- but she’s seen the way Foggy is with the Daredevil. She’s seen the way he is with The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. She’s seen the way the man in the mask affects him, the way he himself affects the man in the mask. She’s _seen_ that Foggy is the most important person in the world to his masked lover, just as the masked man is the most important in his.

So why, on god’s green earth, would Foggy Nelson - Franklin P. Nelson, the best man she ever knew: a man full of smiles and life, a man full of enough love for everyone around him and then some, a man who makes it his mission to make people laugh even if just for a moment, a man who beneath it all only wants to do the right thing; why would he be kissing his best friend like he’s a man dying of thirst and Matt is the water?  Foggy isn’t a cheater - he couldn’t be - _can’t_ be, Karen refuses to believe it. She knows Foggy, and while Foggy may have problems from time to time, he is also the nicest man you could possibly hope to meet.

 

Seconds later, the scene before her dissipates with a small shocked cry leaving Foggy’s throat, his eyes wide, staring at Karen like she’s just walked in on him murdering someone.

 

Matt’s nothing but a gentleman as he extracts himself from Foggy’s grasp neatly and efficiently - one hand running through Foggy’s hair lightly as if in a final goodbye to the kiss but nothing more than that. Leave it to Matt to have the audacity to be innocent after brutally making out with someone who’s already got someone they love in their lives.

 

“Karen,” Matt begins and wow, she’s never in her wildest dreams thought that Matt could make himself sound _sheepish_ , like a teenager being caught with a boy in their room past curfew. But there he is, clearing his throat, sounding as sheepish as she’s ever heard anyone sound before as he straightens his jacket, “I’m sorry me and Foggy were just-- saying good morning.”

A blush has painted its way over Foggy’s cheeks since Matt started talking, but at Matt’s words he makes a sort of half snort, a hidden laugh.

This is real, she realises, this is painfully, awfully real. Foggy’s right here, cheating on the man he supposedly loves with his best friend. It’s sick and awful, and while Foggy may deserve to give her an explanation for his own actions, in that moment she doesn’t think. She loves Foggy with all her heart, loves Matt just the same but this is crossing a line and no matter how much she cares about Foggy right now she _can’t._

She blinks.

She takes two steps forward.

She smacks Foggy right across the face.

“Karen!” Matt shouts, the word short, shocked, protective, _angry_.

Honestly Karen can’t bring herself to care. Matt can be angry all he likes, she’s _furious._ She’s been cheated on before (not that she ever talks about it), and the feeling of it, the bone deep feeling when you realise someone you thought you loved – someone you thought loved _you ­-_ cares so little about you they’ll just chuck you away for someone else: that _hurts._ TheDaredevil doesn’t deserve to be hurt in that way, he doesn’t deserve to be hurt at all with everything he does for this city.

The Daredevil deserves _Foggy_ but the Foggy _she_ knows. Not this crazy, unreal version of Foggy who’s willing to snog someone else in his office to ‘say good morning’.

Foggy’s cheating on the guy who ruins his Buffy references and sneaks into hospitals to see him.

Foggy’s cheating on the guy who recites Romeo and Juliet and when prompted will sing Uptown Funk.

Foggy’s cheating on the guy who writes him love notes to read at work and kisses him in the rain.

If this was just her finding out about Matt and Foggy she’d be happy - in fact she imagines it would be rather cute in an odd sort of way, Matt and Foggy, Nelson and Murdock - but not when Foggy’s supposed to be off smitten with someone else.

“You better have a _very_ good explanation,” she manages out finally, holding eye contact with Foggy, looking every bit like the demon the Daredevil is rumoured to be.

“What? _What?_ We were just kissing, Karen,” Foggy says a plea in his voice, confusion clear in his tone, holding his hands up in lee of surrender, “we do it all the time.”

“That’s even _worse,_ ” Karen snaps, “Jesus, Foggy you- you can’t just-” she swallows, trying to keep her anger under wraps, “does Matt even know? I never thought you were that kind of guy, Fog. You’re supposed to be a nice guy.”

“I- what are you-” Foggy’s staring at her like she’s very possibly gone mad. She supposes it makes sense for him to be looking at her that way; she’s never been _told_ Foggy’s with daredevil, she just sort of accidently found out. So Foggy doesn’t know - Foggy doesn’t know that she knows he’s apparently with two men.

“Karen,” comes a voice from behind her, a hand on her shoulder. _Matt._ Her head turns eyes turning upwards to look up at him. He has a look on his face, something vaguely akin to light humour, a sparkle in his eyes that looks just a little too much like a ‘ _I know something you don’t know’._

It just infuriates her even more.

“Foggy hasn’t done anything wrong. We have been together for a while now. Come on Karen, _think.”_

 _Think. Think?_ What does he mean _think?_

Does Matt not know? Does Matt not know that Foggy’s _cheating_ on him with someone else?

 “We’re sorry we didn’t tell you,” Foggy says quickly, all bashful and blushing, drawing Karen’s gaze back to him, “You’re not, uh, you’re not homophobic are you? Is that the problem?”

He sounds awkward as he asks the last question - almost nervous, like he’s truly afraid Karen’s answer might be yes. Karen rolls her eyes at the very notion, of course she’s not homophobic. This isn’t about her being homophobic; this is about something far, far worse.

“Of course not,” she says, quickly, quietly, “how can you even ask that, Foggy? That’s not the problem here.”

Foggy frowns, a confused look still painting his face, “then why-”

“You’re with _Daredevil_ Foggy. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve _seen_ it. You told him you _loved_ him. And now you’re here kissing Matt good morning. Don’t you think _Matt_ deserves better than that. Don’t you think _Daredevil_ deserves better than that?”

Foggy stares at her for a moment, unblinking. His lips are shaped around a small ‘o’ of shock, eyes widened as they watch her, hair ruffled from where Matt obviously has had his fingers running through it at some point in the morning - something she tries not to let her thoughts linger on.

Foggy’s hand goes to the chain usually hidden away beneath his collar lying flat against his shirt, revealing exactly what’s on the end of that chain: ring. Platinum. Expensive. Beautiful. Huh, was that the clink of metal she’d heard all those months ago now in the closet before Foggy and Daredevil had kissed?

Foggy’s fingers curl around the band of metal, although other than that he’s unmoving, still as a statue, as if Karen’s words somehow put a spell on him, froze him.

From behind her, Matt lets out a laugh.

Her eyes turn to him, hands on her hips, “what is so funny, Matthew?” she asks irritably, voice annoyed, confused, everything in between, bringing out his full name in way of a defence.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says quickly, holding up his palms to match Foggy’s surrender, “I was just thinking about how _love is blind._ Apparently best friends of lovers are as well. On another note I’d appreciate it if you _didn’t_ slap my boyfriend again like that. I have a rule about coming after those who hurt him - most of those people usually end up in dumpsters. Or the hospital.”

He sounds light hearted now, as if all his troubles just got washed away all over again – although to be brutally honest, Karen’s not sure he ever looked troubled to start with – _sheepish, embarrassed –_ but not troubled like Foggy did. Karen watches his hand reaching out to take Foggy’s, to breech the gap that Karen created between them. Karen’s got no clue what they’re playing at, but no one’s given her any explanation yet that makes a lick of sense.

“Dumpsters?” she echo’s finally which is exactly when the Foggy-statue comes to life and _he’s laughing as well._

“Jesus, Karen. I didn’t-” Foggy begins, in between what looks like fits of uncontrollable laughter, “was this the other day? In the warehouse? Is that when you heard me and Matt talking?”

Heard _me and Matt?_ But Matt wasn’t _in_ the warehouse. There was just Foggy and herself and Daredevil and-

Oh. _Oh._

 _Love is blind. Dumpsters. Hospitals. Someone who has a rule about coming after those who hurt Foggy. Someone who wants to protect the city. Someone who likes Buffy and went to college with Foggy. Someone who teases Foggy and who Foggy had the chance of walking in on lying on the ground bleeding in the Daredevil mask. Someone with bad handwriting. Someone who has ‘_ other ways to see’. _Someone who’s an avocado. Someone who loves Foggy, who Foggy loves right back. Someone- someone-_

_Matt frikin’ Murdock._

He fits every single description on her list and then some. He’s everything she’s seen in the Devil and he’s standing right in front of her. He’s been standing right in front of her the whole time.

“But _you’re blind.”_ she says, eyes widening.

Foggy’s not cheating on Daredevil with Matt.

He’s just dating Matt.

And he’s dating Daredevil.

_Because they’re the same person._

“You’re blind and you- how do you-” it makes sense but it also doesn’t. There are other ways to see but there’s also not much you can do to get around being blind.

“Karen,” Matt says, and he suddenly sounds unsteady. He’s been a rock all morning, the one of them that knew _exactly_ what has been going on, and yet now he sounds scared, fear bubbling to the surface of his usually calm and collected manor, “I swear it’s not what the news says it is. I swear it’s not-

Foggy rolls his eyes, propping himself back up on the table, hand still clasped with Matt’s, “s’okay, Karen,” he cuts in, “If it helps this is the better way to find out, I came round to his house and he was half dead on the floor, bleeding, unable to move still in costume.”

Karen’s pretty sure her brains offline as she tries to put together the man who saved her, and the man before her now. The man who is a superhero and the man who is a lawyer. The man who is her best friend and the man who is her saviour - Matt Murdock. The Daredevil.

It’s actually surprisingly easy. If you take out the whole blind thing.

“I told you, in the warehouse.” Matt cuts in finally, breaking the silence, speaking as if he’s just read her mind, “There are other ways to see, Karen. I use my ears, my sense of smell. I had chemicals splashed in my eyes when I was a kid. It blinded me but it also… affected me. My senses are heightened. That’s how I see.” Matt explains, his words almost rushed, “I am blind though. I would never lie about being blind. I just—can ‘see’ more than anyone else at the same time. I just have super senses. I can hear heartbeats and breathing patterns and can sense where people are standing. It lets me fight.”

“Wow,” Karen whispers, quiet, almost awed.

“That and he was trained by some weird ninja guy with a stupid name, but he’s a dick so we don’t talk about him,” Foggy grins and _okay they are so a couple._ It’s a wonder she didn’t see it before. They’re _finishing each other’s sentences._ They’re an awful, cliché couple.

“You’ve never even met Stick’s – how do you know he’s a dick.”

“Some things you just know my good friend. Like, I ain’t ever seen an elephant, but I know they exist. I ain’t ever met Stick’s but I know he’s a dick,” Foggy’s grinning sort of stupid. Karen has to wonder why. Is it because she knows? Because he doesn’t have to hide anything from Karen anymore?

_I can hear heartbeats…_

The thought strikes her out of nowhere as her brain catches up with what Matt actually said.

“You knew!” she suddenly shouts, pointing a finger in Matt’s direction accusingly. “You _knew_ I was listening. That I was there, every time!”

Matt’s grin stretches, “in the rain and in the closet and in the hospital and in the warehouse. In fact, I’m almost certain you read my note as well- but I don’t have any solid proof on that one. Just when Foggy brought it home it smelt just a little too much like your perfume. That _could_ have meant that you touched it – thus meaning you read it – or simply that you were wearing a lot more perfume that day and it rubbed off on your surroundings. I’m willing to stake on the first though, you’re usually quite careful with how much perfume you put on.”

“That’s…that’s…” she trails off, eyes wide, “you can tell I touched a letter from my _perfume._ ”

“I was giving you clues. I even recited Shakespeare’s famous _love is blind._ I think that’s a pretty big clue.” He nods, “and the Buffy shirt. And all those little clues whenever I knew you were listening. You’re usually brilliant at putting things together, I was waiting for you to guess.” Matt lists off, completely straight faced, but a smile lying within the twinkle of his eyes. It looks almost like he’s giving evidence to a court room.

“So why didn’t you just _tell_ me are Daredevil?” Karen asks, confusion plain in her town.

Matt blinks. Cocks his head to one side. And then Matt _smirks._ It’s very possibly the scariest thing she’s ever seen. “And where exactly, would the fun in that be?”

“Hold on. Hold on,” Foggy holds his hands up, “I’m confused. When was Karen listening to us? You didn’t tell me Karen was listening to us.” Foggy’s staring at Matt but Matt just shrugs, leans in, presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it sweetie,” Matt sooths a hand through Foggy’s hair.

Foggy sighs but nods – Karen can see he’s not really dropped the subject though, just put a pin in it to bring up later, “at least we don’t have to hide it anymore. But…you heard us in the closet? What closet? When were you in a closet? You didn’t- tell me you didn’t-” he suddenly looks both very pale and very embarrassed. Karen laughs a little.

“I didn’t watch you having sex. Or hear it. Because ew. I heard you kiss a few times. That’s all.”

Foggy lets out a breath of relief and it’s clear as day he’s fine with that answer. She thinks she sees him squeeze Matt’s hand but she’s not completely sure.

There’s silence for the barest of moments, just the three of them, catching up on exactly what has just been said. It is starting to sink in: the scene before her, Foggy relaxed, one hand in Matt’s, smiling. The fact that Matt is Daredevil. The fact that Foggy is in love with _Matt_ not just some masked man. All of it sinking in, finding a place in her mind.

And then she’s off again, questions spilling from her lips, because here she is standing next to her hero – who just so happens to be her best friend – and she can ask him _anything._ Anything she wants to add to her list, she can add now. Because it’s _Matt._  “When you- when you two had your argument. That was it wasn’t it? Foggy found out that you are-”

“Yep,” Foggy interrupts, “but we eventually kissed and made up, so it’s all okay. Look Karen, I...I didn’t want to lie to you, but it’s pretty serious business and if something-”

“I have a friend,” Matt puts in, _finishing each other’s sentences…_ “A friend who I cared about a lot. We never really were together in a romantic way, not like I am with Foggy. But we had a thing. Now she’s just my friend. Claire. She got taken to a warehouse and held hostage because of me. Because she knew who I was. I didn’t want that for you or Foggy, I didn’t want anyone – especially not you two – to get hurt because of me.”

Karen nods. She understands. She’d expected as much anyway. “its fine, Matt. I mean, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you’re the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but I’m not mad. Shocked. But not mad. It’s just…you’re blind. I guess that’s why I didn’t put it together.”

Foggy nods, “yeah, you get used to it eventually though. It’s—it’s weird at first, wait until he starts telling you you need to go to the doctors before you know you do yourself because he _hears your digestive system not working quite right_ \-- but it can be handy in the context of other things. He’s _very_ sensitive which is _fun.”_

 _“Foggy_ I do not need to hear that. Anything about that. Seeing you kiss is enough.”

Foggy laughs.

Matt doesn’t.

Karen sighs but slowly a grin finds its way onto her face as she looks between them.

Nelson and Murdock. Matt and Foggy. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and his lover and the Lawyer and the Lawyer.

She can’t stop smiling. While unexpected this is…strangely perfect.

It takes her a second to wrap her arms around Matt – she doesn’t even realise she’s going to hug him until she does but then she’s there and he’s holding onto her right back. She holds onto him in the same way she held onto him when he came to the office in the middle of the night to confess he couldn’t do this alone, “Matt it’s fine. You’ve saved my life more than once. It’s fine. I should have realised - your voice, I should have recognised it. It’s _fine._ ”

Matt lets go of Foggy’s hand to wrap another arm around her, letting out a breath against her neck, “thank you.”

Foggy shakes his head, “man, maybe wish I could have reacted like this.”

Matt made a wounded half sound against Karen’s neck. Obviously Foggy had reacted badly, but they’d made up which was the main thing, right?

Matt pulls back eventually, a smile ghosting across his cheeks, going from leaning on Karen to leaning against Foggy, with Foggy propped on the table, he was just a little bit taller than Matt.

“I can’t believe you're _daredevil,”_ Karen says eventually, shaking her head.

“Maybe I’ll show you what I can do sometime. Foggy likes to chuck things at me to make me catch them when we’re on our own,” Matt murmurs, standing up straighter, dusting down his suit again.

There is a shift in the air, Foggy hopping down from the table, smiling at Karen, striding across the room and opening the door to the rest of the tiny office that is Nelson and Murdock: ~~Avocado’s~~ Attorneys at Law: Law firm.

Karen grabs her notebook - what she actually came in there for in the first place - offers a smile to the two of them, then walks out the door.

Time for another day in the office.

Surprisingly – or perhaps unsurprisingly after all this time – she is actually looking forward to it.

 

Perhaps nothing in her life is simple. Matt is Daredevil, Foggy is dating him, Matt has super senses: the list goes on and none of it is simple.

 

But she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

\---

 

_Things I know about ~~the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen Daredevil~~ **MATTHEW MICHAEL MURDOCK** by Karen Page:_

_1)       He saved my life._

_2)       He believes in doing the right thing._

_3)       He can fight (a bit like a ninja) **(apparently because he was trained by a ninja)**_

_4) ~~He’s probably hot~~   **(Matt is hot but also my best friend and I am so not thinking about his hotness. Ever.)**_

_5) ~~He has a deep voice~~ **(Nope, just a ‘daredevil’ voice to try and hide his ‘true’ identity)**_

_6) ~~He might be a terrorist.~~_

_7)       He helped track down and lock up Fisk._

_8)       He’s on our side and not a terrorist._

_9)       He looks after this city._

_10)    My boss/best friend knows who he is. **(SO DO I – I’VE KNOWN HIM THIS WHOLE TIME)**_

_11)    He kissed my boss/best friend in the rain._

_12)    According to my boss/best friend he can get ill from the rain like anyone else can._

_13)    Is in some sort of serious relationship with my boss/best friend. **(Very serious. They have rings – not that they’ll tell me what they mean)**_

_14)    Knew my boss/best friend back when he was just the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen_

_15)    Knew my boss/best friend before my boss/best friend knew he was Daredevil_

_16)    He recites Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) ~~– is probably smart or at least a drama student~~ – or maybe just  a really big dork. _

_17)    Likes Buffy_

_18)    My boss/best friend called him ‘a very, very good looking guy’ the first time he met him._

_19)    My boss/best friend made references to Maverick and Goose the first time he met him._

_20)    Daredevil is good at spoiling your references with nerdy facts._

_21)    Will sometimes sing ‘uptown funk’ when prompted to (like everyone else on the planet)_

_22)    Has silk sheets ~~(wealthy? A snob?)~~ **(heightened senses that make it harder to sleep on cotton sheets)**_

_23)    My boss/best friend loves him_

_24)    My boss/best friend might actually be hiding him from me to try and keep me safe **(so was he – something to do with a lady named Claire?)**_

_25)    He might be a danger to my boss/best friend **(Matt would never put Foggy in Danger)**_

_26)    He might also be an asset – willing to go and beat people up for my boss/best friend if they dare to touch him **(Definitely an asset)**_

_27)     He writes love notes like he’s some love sick kid in high school_

_28 ~~)     He likes hickeys~~_

_29)     He loves my boss/Best friend_

_30)     He has awful handwriting. **(Because he’s BLIND)**_

_31)     He was ~~possibly~~ **BEST** friends with ~~Matt and~~ Foggy at college ~~?~~_

_32)     He ~~possibly~~ went to college with ~~Matt and~~ Foggy ~~?~~_

_33)     He is an ‘avocado’ which ~~may or may not~~ make **s** him a lawyer_

_34)   ‘There are other ways to see’ ~~– whatever that means~~. **(It means he’s BLIND)**_

_35)   He’s gentle – kind._

_36)   He can make my boss/best friend laugh even when said boss/best friend has been kidnapped._

_39) He really likes Shakespeare. ~~Apparently~~. And love is blind - ~~whatever that means.~~_

_38)   I may have to start finding a dress to wear to the Daredevil and my boss/best friend’s wedding because they’re obviously serious about this. **(I need to make sure they actually do this – Foggy wears a ring on a chain. This probably means something)**_

 

**_39)_ ** **_He is blind._ **

**_40)_ ** **_He is an asshole for not telling me._ **

**_41) He is an asshole for dropping hints and expecting me to guess and not saying that he KNEW I was standing right there!_ **

**_42)_ ** **_He is Matt Murdock – my other best friend._ **

**_ 43) _ ** **** **_ Nothing in my life is simple. _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay - there's gonna be another chapter. An epilogue if you like. This is the official ending, but I have to add in more information about Foggy's ring - it just really didn't fit in here. That and this story is so close to my heart, it's so hard to let it go. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and enjoyed this entire work as well. Please let me know what you thought of the story as a whole, it'd be lovely to hear from all of you. And thank you to everyone who has spurred me on with Kudos and comments - you guys are amazing and I can't thank you enough.


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